


You're Sweeter than Sugar Quills

by glitterfox19



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Bisexual Albus Potter, Boys In Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gay Scorpius Malfoy, Getting Together, Gryffindor Albus Severus Potter, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Ravenclaw Scorpius Malfoy, Slow Burn, i love these two!!!!, just boys being fools, like a reaaaaally slow burn, maybe like the smallest bit of angst if you squint really hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-03-23 10:27:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 32,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13785552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitterfox19/pseuds/glitterfox19
Summary: Scorpius Malfoy has a pretty lonely life. It's his fifth year, and all he really does is fight with his roommate, study for exams, and chew through quills like a madman. When he's strongarmed into actually acting like a Ravenclaw for once, things start to change for the better.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hi everyone! This is my first ever fanfic posted to AO3, and my first ever fanfic for the Cursed Child. I just really felt like old Scorpo and Albus deserved a little better. I hope you enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scorpius did not have to admit that was an excellent usage of his own insult against him. He was too shocked that the other boy was acknowledging him, nevermind being friendly to him, for the first time since they were both Sorted into Ravenclaw. Regardless, his hatred of Quidditch was almost famous. Added to his outcast persona.

Scorpius Malfoy had a terrible habit of chewing on his quills. It had started when he was first introduced to the Sugar Quills at Hogsmeade; at least those actually tasted good. Now, he would just absently chew on the ends until he had gnawed on them for so long that they were absolutely disgusting and broken. It was happening more often this year. Like any bad habit, his tendency to behave unconsciously was worsened by stress. And as any Hogwarts student knows, past or present, fifth year can be one of the most stressful years of your life. Even if you’re not Harry Potter and had to deal with the government ignoring the apocalypse.

Which was, coincidentally, the topic of Scorpius’s History of Magic essay and the reason as to why Scorpius wouldn’t stop spitting out the bits of the end of his quill into a cup on his desk expressly there for the purpose of being a spitting cup. He had to admit, It was nasty. Scorpius felt only mildly embarrassed. There were worse habits. He picked up his quill and looked at the end of it, becoming aware of his surroundings and his actions. Stretching gently, Scorpius stood up from his desk and allowed the ink to dry. He had never forgotten the time in second year he had been scrawling at such a rapid and frenzied pace that he had smudged the ink of his essay completely and had to re-do it. There was no charm he knew to undo stupidity.

“Hiya, Scorpo,” came a voice. Scorpius sighed. He wished, suddenly, that such a charm existed. Barrelling through the dormitory doors came one gloriously idiotic Maxwell Thorne. How someone so utterly dense could have ended up in Ravenclaw was beyond Scorpius. And as his roommate!

“Hello, Thorne,” he grumbled. Maxwell sat on the edge of Scorpius’ desk, dangerously close to his still-drying essay. The other boy’s limbs were somewhat out of control. He was ridiculously tall and lanky; he had grown up and his body had not yet caught up on width. Scorpius tried not to show that the other Ravenclaw was ruffling his feathers by setting his jaw and staring straight ahead. Unfortunately, he had unknowingly picked up another quill and was madly chewing on it, a dead giveaway of his stress.

“Who put a stick up your ass today?” his roommate quipped cheerfully. “Oh, wait, that’s been there since you were born. Malfoy family tradition.” Scorpius spat a chunk of quill in the other boy’s direction. Maxwell deftly dodged, used to these types of attacks from Scorpius.

“Would you leave me alone to do some work? Maybe do some of your own so you actually look like a Ravenclaw for once in your life?” Scorpius muttered. Maxwell only chuckled, sticking out his tongue as he laughed.

“Since you asked nicely, fine. I was going to ask you if you wanted to come to the Quidditch match tomorrow.” Scorpius raised his eyebrows at the other boy, who was beginning to grin sheepishly. “You know...so you could look like a Ravenclaw for once in your life?

Scorpius did not have to admit that was an excellent usage of his own insult against him. He was too shocked that the other boy was acknowledging him, nevermind being friendly to him, for the first time since they were both Sorted into Ravenclaw. Regardless, his hatred of Quidditch was almost famous. Added to his outcast persona.

“Nope. Sorry.” He turned away from Maxwell to read the instructions for the essay again, making sure he was actually answering the question and not going on a tangent. How was the government’s refusal to acknowledge the return of Voldemort in 1995 representative of conservatism within the wizarding world? Cite at least three examples prior to 1991.

There was a grunt from the doorway. Scorpius looked up. Maxwell had his arms folded and was scowling dejectedly at Scorpius under his thick, black curls.

“What,” Scorpius groaned exasperatedly. “I’m not sure why you’re so desperate to go to Quidditch with me. We’re not exactly best mates, you feel? Plus, you know as well as everyone else that I despise Quidditch."

“Pretty please.” Maxwell even stuck out his bottom lip. Scorpius ran his fingers through his hair, knowing full well that the pale blond strands were probably sticking out in every direction now.

Knowing he had to eventually give in, Scorpius mumbled, “What’s in it for me?”

“Aha! I always knew you were meant to be in Slytherin.” Scorpius fixed Maxwell with a glare that turned the other boy even paler than normal. “Alright, fine, I’ll keep talking. So it all started with Emma, who really heard it from Rosie, who…”

Scorpius felt his eyes glazing over. His shoulders slumped. Man, he hadn’t slept well in a long, long time, had he? And Maxwell’s voice was just at the perfect pitch to send him into a mid-afternoon doze. In a desperate attempt to stay awake, he trained his eyes on a freckle on Maxwell’s cheek. He even despised that freckle.

“Anyway, all you have to do is stay there overnight, and I’ll give you a twenty pack of Sugar Quills.”

Scorpius tuned back in. "And?"

When Maxwell fixed the blond Ravenclaw with an apathetic glare, Scorpius held up his hands. “You can’t possibly expect me to do anything for Sugar Quills! Those hardly cost anything, and I can ask my father for them anytime. Come on, something better.”

“Like what, Malfoy? God, I’m getting tired of you. Maybe I should’ve asked Gabe. Gabe would’ve said yes unquestioningly,” Maxwell said bitterly.

“Gabe’s a bigger fool than you are and you know it.” The other Ravenclaw boy threw his hands up in the air.

“Fine! Fine! You know what Malfoy? Fine,” the other boy sneered. “I’ll buy you all of Honeydukes. Breakfast in bed for a month. I’ll hex someone you absolutely despise. If you just go to the game with me. Not even with me. Just go to the game and stand with the Ravenclaws. Maybe even wave your flag a little. Would it kill you?”

“No, probably not. It’s idiotic to suggest that.” Maxwell’s face was no longer pale, but more the color of pomegranate juice. Scorpius smirked. “You’ll just owe me one.”

Maxwell’s eyebrows scrunched together. “Owe you one...what?”

“Just a favor. Any favor. Whenever.” The blond Ravenclaw tapped his quill against his cheek thoughtfully. “Or no deal.”

Maxwell breathed in deeply and pinched his nose. He stood there for several seconds looking severely constipated. And then he grumbled, “Fine. This is absolutely not how I thought this would go. I can’t believe I expected niceties out of you. But fine. You’re going. This is perfect. See you later, Scorpo Twerpo.” With that, the other boy scuttled out of the room hastily.

Scorpius realized that he had no idea why Maxwell wanted him at the match in the first place. He shrugged. Worth it to be able to lord this mysterious favor over the other boy’s head. After dipping his quill in ink again, he began to attack his essay a little more feverishly.

_The wizarding world has been hesitant to change since the beginning of time; Hogwarts’ second motto should be “if it isn’t broken, don’t fix it.” As a result of this strict adherence to values from the past, dangerous conservative groups feel safe emerging even in the 21st century. Prior to 1991, however, there was the group of witches known as the Carrion Crows who were largely responsible for terrorizing Muggles in the 1600’s, leading to the mass witch hysteria documented in Salem, Massachusetts and beyond…_

*

Scorpius found himself in the stands, as promised, bundled in a blue Ravenclaw scarf and holding a tiny flag with an eagle printed on it. Someone had charmed the flag so that the eagle would fly in a circle and caw when the flag was waved.

There was a motion attracting his attention. His lip curled instinctively. Maxwell Thorne was waving from the commentator’s box, grinning from ear to ear. Scorpius turned away, only barely acknowledging his roommate. He had to think of something good to force Thorne to do… maybe have him give a hapless fourth year a dosage of Amortentia and have her follow him around for a few days? He shook his head. Too cruel for the fourth year.

A mighty roar sounded from the crowd. The players were beginning to walk onto the field. Perhaps strut may have been a better word choice for some. On the other sides of the stand, the Gryffindor house had created a gigantic, rippling lion banner that roared loudly for the team members.

“There’s the Seeker, Maeve Rockhart of Gryffindor, in her seventh year playing Quidditch and second as team captain!” The lithe brunette girl mounted her broom, her face set into an expression of pure determination. Thank Merlin for the commentary, or else Scorpius would be completely lost. He paused for a second. Was he actually slightly grateful to Thorne for even half a second? A weird feeling.

“Those are the two Beaters, James and Albus Potter from Gryffindor! Not twins, mind you, though you could’ve fooled me.” James waved good-naturedly to the crowd, and then proceeded to mount his proom. Albus had his bat hoisted loftily and nonchalantly onto his shoulders, as if it weighed nothing. Scorpius scoffed as he blew a kiss to the crowd. Arrogant bastard, he thought to himself.

“The Gryffindor Chasers, Lucy Wang, Markus Smith, and Xavier Brown!” Three other robed figures walked onto the field and assumed position. Lucy was tapping her foot anxiously.

“And finally, from Gryffindor, the Keeper, Ally Beaumont!” She chose to position herself closer towards the goalposts. 

“Now, for the moment you’ve all been waiting for,” Maxwell yelled into the microphone. “The Ravenclaw team!” Professor McGonagall’s voice quietly reverberated from the microphone saying that Mister Thorne really should remain neutral in his commentary. Scorpius thought he heard a muttered apology from Thorne. 

“Ravenclaw Seeker Molly Dunneth!” She mounted her broom opposite of Maeve and stared her down before cracking a smile. 

“Beaters Ellen Mackery and Sawyer Thompson!” They stood on either side of Molly, staring straight ahead in what appeared to be an intimidating manner. Scorpius wasn’t quite sure, but he waved his flag a little regardless. The eagle let out a caw and flapped its wings. In his opinion, the charm on the flag was far more fascinating than the game that was about to unfold. But a promise was a promise, even if he made it to Thorne. 

“Chasers Rose Granger-Weasley, Carl Yu, and Patrick Dunsing!” Rose grinned wryly at her cousins from across the field, Albus and James, who were pretending to throw their bats at her. 

“And finally, the captain of the Ravenclaw team and Keeper, Ryan Pickett!” Scorpius felt his jaw drop. Sure, he knew Ryan was small, but compared to everyone else on the field he looked absolutely miniature. How on Earth was he supposed to block all the goals with a body mass that miniscule? Quidditch didn’t make any sense. 

Professor Queens blew her whistle, mounted her broom, and threw the Quaffle into the air. With that, all the players took to the skies. Scorpius found himself attempting to block out the bright sun with his hands. There was not a cloud in the sky; he picked a perfect day to abandon his recluse habits. 

“Nice goal made by Granger-Weasley, that’s 10-0 to Ravenclaw. Brown has retrieved the Quaffle and is quickly passing back and forth with Wang and Smith, and they’re streaking up the field… will Pickett save it in time?” 

“Obviously not,” Scorpius scoffed to himself. But to his surprise, the tiny Keeper swatted the Quaffle away and threw it back to his teammates. 

“Albus Potter has smacked a Bludger cleanly at Yu, knocking the Quaffle away. Score is now 50-70, Gryffindor. Ravenclaw really needs to pick it up to put themselves in a better position for the Cup…” 

Scorpius watched as a Bludger flew threw the air at remarkable speed. One of the Gryffindor Beaters -- the one who looked exactly like his father, Harry Potter, was his name Albus maybe? -- was gearing up to hit it straight at an opposing Chaser. There was a cracking sound. A tell-tale hiss that the Bludger was on its way to hit its mark. 

Everyone started screaming. Scorpius was about to ask what for when he realized that he had fallen backwards. All he tasted was blood. His hand flew instinctively to his jaw. There was a terrible commotion from the stands; everyone he had been cheering with moments before was now standing still, immobilized by shock. The Bludger had hit him square in the mouth. Horrified, he swiped his tongue around; had he lost his teeth? Looking down at his robes, he noticed how absolutely soaked the front was with blood. He felt a dizzy rushing sensation in his ears. 

Within minutes, he was floating out on a stretcher. If he weren’t in so much pain, he could’ve snorted with how ridiculous the situation. He was right to not have wanted to go to this stupid match! Of course the one time he goes to see Quidditch something terrible happens to him! And Thorne owes him twice over at this point, the prick. 

*

“Hiya, Scorpy!” 

Scorpius awoke with a thunderous groan. He wasn’t in that much pain, but hearing that voice made him wish he could stay in the hospital wing for just one extra night. Rubbing his eyes irritably, he grumbled, “What the fuck could you want now, Thorne.” 

“Just got your homework.” Scorpius’ eyes focused on the figure before him, and the impressive stack of books and parchment he had levitating before him. Maxwell waved his wand, and the neatly organized stack fell into disarray at the end of Scorpius’ bed. “Catch you on the flip side, Scorpy Worpy! Have fun!” 

Rolling his eyes, Scorpius leaned over and looked at the first thing on his list. _Read pages 212-350 in Magical Drafts and Potions. Summarize the importance of moonstone in potion making on one piece of parchment paper._ He groaned and reluctantly pulled out his textbook. 

*

Madame Elkin was the next person to visit him. She administered a potion in silence, and he felt the pain in his jaw lessen. “What about my teeth?” he asked. 

"Oh, yes, that’s an easy solution. You broke two and lost one completely. Just a little Skele-Gro and you’ll be out in… 12 hours maybe?” 

“What time is it now?” As much as he’d love to sleep in for once, he really couldn’t afford to miss any classes. 

“Oh, 7 in the evening,” Madame Elkin said nonchalantly. She bustled about the wing, grabbing a skeleton shaped bottle. Scorpius swore his eyes almost fell out of his head. “What?” He exclaimed. “I’ve been out the whole day?” 

“I decided I’d just let you rest for now. You have a tough evening ahead of you.” She uncapped the potion and passed the bottle to him. 

“Oh, wonderful,” he muttered sarcastically. Scorpius tipped the bottle back and almost gasped. There was a burning sensation in the back of his throat, and his jaw was aching. The potion tasted horrendous. Worse than rotten milk and broccoli put together. It felt almost as though someone had stuck pins into his gums and jawline. 

He whimpered. “There, there. It’ll only be two hours like this. I’ll just monitor you this evening and see how you feel tomorrow. Though I bet you’ll feel right as rain in the morning.” 

If he had enough energy to make a biting remark, he would’ve. However, his jaw currently felt like it was on fire while also getting pried open. Scorpius settled for a much simpler nod. “For now, so you actually get to sleep, drink a little of this,” Madame Elkin said gently to her charge. She held out a vial of a silverish liquid. Scorpius stared at it questioningly. “It’s only Sleeping Draught. Just so you’re not up half the night.” 

Without further question, Scorpius practically inhaled the potion. He felt his eyes begin to drift shut and smiled with relief. 

The next thing he knew, it was morning. “Mister Malfoy,” Madame Elkin said, jarring the blond Ravenclaw awake. “How are you feeling?” 

“Just fine,” he mumbled. 

“You have a visitor. He’s came around last night when you were sleeping, but I shooed him away. After all, you needed your rest so that you could get your teeth back!” Scorpius brought his hands to his mouth. Sure enough, all three of his teeth were back in working order. “Anyway, I’ll send him in.” 

To his utmost surprise, Albus Potter waltzed in. He had a hand on his neck and his hair was ruffled up. “Uh. Hi,” he said. 

“I suppose you’re the one who landed me in here, huh?” There was no malice in his words. Scorpius was so shocked that he could hardly respond. Why on Earth had Albus Potter come to visit him? 

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” the Gryffindor mumbled, grinning shyly. Scorpius felt like he was in an alternate universe. A Potter boy lacking his trademark confidence? Apologizing? _Speaking to a Malfoy?_ The world had gone truly mad, Scorpius decided. 

“Well, thanks for stopping by. I’m leaving momentarily anyway. But I appreciate the thought.” 

“Oh! Well I can… I can carry your books!” Albus chattered helpfully. Scorpius smiled. 

“Potter, you broke my jaw, not my arms.” Albus looked incredibly sheepish. His cheeks were turning pink and he couldn’t look Scorpius in the eye. Scorpius found himself immensely enjoying the other boy’s awkwardness. 

“Oh.” There was a resounding silence. Scorpius sat up in his bed. 

“You can walk me to Charms,” he decided. 

“Alright. Thanks. I just feel awful, you know,” Albus said. “I really didn’t mean it.” 

“Well of course not! You weren’t aiming for me, were you?” The Ravenclaw boy responded. “How did the game go, anyway?” 

“Gryffindor won. The Snitch was caught maybe thirty seconds after they carted you off the field. Sorry, mate,” Albus said. 

Scorpius laughed. “I couldn’t give a damn about Quidditch. Congrats, I guess.” 

“Wow, you’re maybe the first person I’d ever met who hates Quidditch!” Albus remarked. Madame Elkins pulled Scorpius aside to give him a once over. The Gryffindor stood off to the side, playing with his wand absently. When Scorpius had been declared free to go, Albus stuffed his wand back in his pocket and grabbed Scorpius’ books. 

“Albus, I told you that you don’t need to do that.” 

“What if I want to?” Scorpius felt his mouth go dry for a second, before deciding that it was probably some weird after-effect of the Skele-Gro potion. 

“Well,” he said stiffly. “Thanks.” 

The two boys walked in silence, but it was no longer uncomfortable. In fact, the atmosphere between them wasn’t nearly as awkward as Scorpius had thought it would be, given that their first interaction had been Albus smashing his jaw. They trudged up a staircase before arriving at Scorpius’ Charms class. 

“Here we are, Albus,” the Ravenclaw said eventually. Neither boy made a move to enter the classroom. 

“Al,” the other boy corrected automatically. Scorpius glanced at him. Albus seemed to realize how his tone sounded, and leaped to apologize. "I didn't mean it to sound like that, I just kinda hate my name and no one really ever calls me Albus," the other boy rambled. Scorpius smiled at him, and Albus promptly closed his mouth. 

“Here we are, Al,” he amended. The brown haired Gryffindor looked grateful. “Thanks for… well, you know.” 

“Not a problem.” The two boys continued to stand just outside the door. Class was due to start in a minute and a half, but Scorpius felt no inclination to learn about Cheering Charms at the moment. 

After a few moments, Scorpius inquired, “Don’t you have another class?” Al’s green eyes widened. 

“Shit!” The other boy exclaimed. “Shit, shit, shit! I have Transfig all the way on the other side of the castle -- Merlin, I’m a total idiot -- I’ll see you around, Scorpo!” The other boy began to dash off. “Fuck, I mean, Scorpius!” Al called from afar. 

Scorpius stood outside the Charms room for a moment longer, a grin making its way onto his face unbidden. Scorpo sounded much more endearing coming from Albus Potter’s mouth than his obnoxious roommate. And he said that he’d see him around? 

For some reason, nothing made him happier than the idea of being friends with Albus Potter, as much as he appeared to be an arrogant bastard. 

With that, Scorpius turned and strided into Charms. The assignment was to perfectly perform a Cheering Charm on yourself. However, he didn’t feel any different to how he felt before walking into the classroom. Scorpius shrugged. Maybe he needed to say the incantation differently?


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yeah, I get that. Though I thought you’d be more on the ball at taking harder classes. After all, you are Albus Severus Potter,” Scorpius said, taking care to turn up his nose and speak Al’s full name in an exaggerated manner. The other boy winced slightly, and Scorpius paled. What if he’d gone too far? They were barely friends, for Merlin’s sake. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t mean--”
> 
> Al cracked a smile. “You’re fine, Scorpo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I'm planning for Saturday updates for this story, except for one exception: I'm out of the country for the middle two weeks of March. Therefore, I'll give you your updates for those two weeks on the 8th and 9th of March. Better to have stuff close together than go two weeks without it, right? I hope you enjoy!

_Scorpius,_

_I hope your classes are going well. I remember last year that you struggled a little with Care of Magical Creatures, so I’ve enclosed a study guide I stumbled upon in Flourish and Blotts. I also have enclosed more quills from Amanuensis Quills -- what I struggle to understand is why your quills run out so quickly! What could you possibly be doing with them that you need a new one every week? No matter; they should be in your package, as well as some Sugar Quills from Honeydukes._

_I heard about your incident involving the Potter boy. Isn’t it just a bit too convenient that out of anyone nearby, you were the one hit with the Bludger? I know you think that your dad’s just trying to continue a dying rivalry, but I do worry, Scorpius. I know it hasn’t been easy on you, carrying my last name._

_Regardless, I hope you’re making new friends this year. Do keep me updated._

_With love,_  
Dad  


Scorpius stopped chewing on the quill in his hand. His owl, Leo, hooted softly. Absentmindedly, he gave the eagle owl a quick pat on the head. His pet attempted to eat some of his breakfast as he scribbled a response to his father.

_  
Dear Dad,_

_My classes are alright. You know me so well! Last week, Hagrid tried to introduce us to fire crabs. One of them nearly scorched my eyebrows off! Scary stuff. The other day, I read my Astronomy textbook cover to cover. The stars and the planets are absolutely fascinating. I know some people think my name is silly and pretentious, but it’s kinda cool that I’m named after a scorpion in the sky! We also learned about Cheering Charms, but I think I screwed up mine, because I didn’t feel any different. The workload is hard; after all, it is O.W.L. year. But I’m managing. I even went to a Quidditch match -- as you’ve head._

_He was actually quite nice to me afterwards. Real apologetic and all. I think it was a genuine accident, though it did seem a little fishy at first to the professors. McGonagall had him in for questioning, and I’m amazed he came out the other side in one piece._

_Thank you for the Sugar Quills! You know how much I love those. And the real quills, too. I have a bad habit of wearing them down too quickly. I’m working on it. And thanks for the study guide. That’ll really come in handy soon. I’ll write soon!_

_Love,_  
Scorpius  
  
With that, he stuffed his newly inked letter into an envelope and tied it around Leo’s leg. “To Dad, please.” Leo nipped his ear affectionately and took off into flight.

Scorpius returned his focus to breakfast. To his alarm, he realized that there was only fifteen minutes until Advanced Transfiguration started, and he had only managed to eat half a piece of toast. And the end of his quill, if that counted for any nutritional value. Shoving one piece haphazardly into his mouth and another into his pocket, he ran off to class.

Sweaty and out of breath, Scorpius hurriedly slid into his seat just as Professor McGonagall started the lesson. She stood at the front of the room with her hands neatly folded.

“Hello, class,” she said. “Due to numerous scheduling errors, we’ve had to change things around a little bit. From now on, select Gryffindors will be taking this class alongside Ravenclaw and Slytherin.” A murmur rippled around the classroom, more so from the students clad in green. There was already a bitter atmosphere of competition amongst the Ravenclaws and Slytherins. Add in a little house rivalry, and trouble was bound to happen.

Six Gryffindor students in total had elected to take the class, most of whom Scorpius didn’t recognize. The last one to file in took the only available seat, directly next to Scorpius. To his surprise, it was Albus Potter. Al Potter, he corrected himself, and then flushed when realizing that he’s close enough with the younger Potter son to use a nickname. It really feels like an alternate universe.

“Hiya,” the Gryffindor whispered. Professor was going on about class expectations and what would and wouldn’t be covered on the O.W.L.s. Most of the class looked to be on the edge of their seats.

“Hey,” Scorpius responded. “Is this our first class together?” 

“Nah, we’ve got Potions, I think. Maybe even Herbology?” Scorpius felt a twinge of shame that he didn’t exactly remember everyone in his classes.

To his utmost annoyance, Maxwell decided to butt into the conversation. “Scorpo, Ally, would you two shut up? Some of us are trying to learn,” he said haughtily. Al turned towards Scorpius and mouthed, ‘Ally?’ questioningly. Scorpius tried very hard not to snort at how ridiculous his roommate could be.

“Sod off, Thorne,” Scorpius snarled, albeit a little more nastily than he intended. Turning his nose up, Maxwell refocused on the front of the room. So much for trying to be friends a few days ago, Scorpius thought to himself. 

McGonagall clapped her hands together. “Open your textbooks, and follow along. Today we’ll be covering the theories behind Vanishing and Conjuring spells. Can anyone explain to me why Conjuring is exceedingly more difficult than Vanishing?”

To no one’s surprise, Rose Granger-Weasley’s hand was the first in the air. “Yes, Miss Granger-Weasley.”

“Because of the Laws of Conservation of Mass and Energy, Conjured objects can only exist temporarily and do not change state. As a result, by conjuring something, you are briefly violating a fundamental law of magic. However, Vanished objects do obey the Law because they are turned into the state of non-being, otherwise known as… well, everything.” Rose flipped her bright orange curls over her shoulder.

“Well done. Five points to Ravenclaw for a well-worded answer.” Scorpius was hooked on every word. Nothing was better, in his opinion, that understanding the theory, the fundamental concepts of magic. His quill was moving almost as fast as McGonagall could lecture. 

To his left, Al appeared to be… dozing slightly? His eyes were half-closed, and while he had parchment in front of him, he seemed to be idly doodling on the side with his quill rather than absorbing information. Scorpius felt tempted to tell the other boy off, but kept his mouth shut. 

After a forty-five minute lecture, the other half of class was devoted to practicing Vanishing spells. When instructed to pair up, Al and Scorpius glance at each other, grin, and get set up at their station. Before them is a vial of water that they’re supposed to Vanish. 

“So, how’d you end up in my Tranfig class, huh?” Scorpius asks, breaking the silence. Al hums to himself, trying to perfect the necessary wand motion in order to properly Vanish the water.

“McGonagall told me I needed to be pushing myself more, I guess. I was doing too well at standard pace, apparently, and needed to ‘take an academic risk,’” Al said. 

“Yeah, I get that. Though I thought you’d be more on the ball at taking harder classes. After all, you are Albus Severus Potter,” Scorpius said, taking care to turn up his nose and speak Al’s full name in an exaggerated manner. The other boy winced slightly, and Scorpius paled. What if he’d gone too far? They were barely friends, for Merlin’s sake. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t mean--”

Al cracked a smile. “You’re fine, Scorpo.” 

“Scorpo?”

“It was a total accident when I said it the other day, but honestly, isn’t it a little hilarious? I mean, your name -- and my name, really -- is supposed to be prestigious and all-important and whatnot, but when they’re altered slightly, they just become absolutely ridiculous.”

“Like, you know, Ally.” 

The two boys guffawed, having momentarily forgotten Maxwell’s bizarre nickname for Al. McGonagall, who seemed to have a third eye used to detect when students were actually having fun in her class, strode over.

“Mister Potter, Mister Malfoy, have you two had any luck with Vanishing the water?”

Al cleared his throat. “Evanseco,” he said, flicking his wrist. The water flickered momentarily, but was still, ultimately, very much there.

“Keep practicing, boys. Don’t goof off entirely, or I’ll be sure to dock points,” Professor McGonagall said sternly, before heading off in the direction of another struggling pair. 

“Scorpius, now your turn.” He hesitates. He knows full well that he’s, objectively, a little terrible with the actual wand part of magic. Knowing, researching, reading? In the bag. Actually harnessing control over any of those concepts, though? Not so much. He’s never felt this nervous about performing magic before, however. Scorpius chalks it up to not wanting to look like an idiot in front of his new friend and plucks up the courage to eventually mutter, “Evanseco.” 

Nothing seems to happen at first. Then, all of a sudden, there’s water everywhere. He and Al and everyone else in Advanced Transfiguration are now standing in about two inches of water. Scorpius fels sorely tempted to thrown himself face down and drown. He stares in horror at the gigantic flood he’s made.

“Well,” starts Professor McGonagall. “Mister Malfoy, you seem to have outdone Mister Thorne and Mister Zabini in terms of horrendous errors.” Sure enough, Gabe Zabini and Maxwell Thorne had also royally screwed up, but to a lesser degree. They were positively drenched with water, their robes clinging to their bodies. Their error was, however, nowhere near as damaging (and impressive) as the actual, literal flooding of the classroom. Scorpius decided that the slowly rising water was far more worthy of his attention as opposed to his classmates’ judging stares and stared at the murky liquid. He could almost feel Thorne’s pompousness from here.

In fact, he probably would’ve stayed like that forever, staring at the slowly rising water, if it weren’t for Al making a rather peculiar sound. Scorpius found himself tearing his gaze away from the ground and looking at his friend. Classmate. Whatever.

Al’s face was contorted and nearly purple. His lips were turned up at the corners, but he was chewing on his bottom lip very hard as to prevent his mouth from splitting into a wide smile. The sounds emitting from his throat was bottled up laughter. In fact, if he hadn’t been trying so hard to prevent it, Al would probably be belly laughing so hard that Slytherins way down in their dungeon common room would be able to hear it.

Scorpius was slightly stung, initially. And then he, too, cracked a smile. Eventually, the two boys were rolling in the flood Scorpius had created, crazed by their mirth. It was, after all, a ridiculous situation.

McGonagall simply Vanished the water and used a Hot-Air Charm on anyone afflicted by the mess Scorpius made.

“Class… dismissed,” McGonagall said, her surprise and amusement almost palpable in her words. “Keep practicing Vanishing spells tonight and tomorrow. I expect you all to at least be able to Vanish an ounce of water by next class.” 

Despite the nearly impossible task set for him by the professor, Scorpius is grinning when he leaves the room. Al still lets out occasional giggles as they walk to Potions together.

“You should’ve seen your face!” he wheezes, and Scorpius decides that maybe failure isn’t so bad after all.

*

Scorpius rapidly changed his mind. Failure was a terrible thing. Failure to manage his work, that is. It was nearly midnight, and he was still in the Ravenclaw common room, attempting miserably to start his Potions essay on the importance of salamander blood in the Modernization Era of Potion-Brewing. 

Not that he was alone, of course. Others were also frantically reviewing, studying, practicing, reading, and writing. Someone was mumbling the incantation under their breath for Inanimus Conjurus that Scorpius would probably be saying it in his sleep that night. 

With a groan, and an essay that only had one sentence inked onto it, Scorpius decided to go for a walk to clear his brain. It wouldn’t help him get work done any faster, but maybe he could find someplace quiet and piece together a half-decent essay.

He found himself pacing the seventh floor, grumbling at himself for not studying earlier, and wishing he had somewhere where Ravenclaws or professors couldn’t bother him. After maybe fifteen minutes of walking aimlessly, Scorpius slid his back down the wall and sat with his essay. Maybe if he worked quickly enough, Mrs. Norris and Filch wouldn’t be able to find him. 

To his surprise, upon a cursory glance to the left to make sure no one would disturb him and/or assign him a detention, he saw a doorway that definitely hadn’t been there a few moments prior. He again checked to make sure no one was coming his way before stepping inside.

It was… absolutely beautiful. A miniature library, with rows and rows of books, a desk with quills (and Sugar Quills!), and textbooks focusing specifically on ingredients in potion-making and the Modernization Era. It’s almost like the room read his mind.

Incredibly grateful to whatever source of magic decided to do him a favor, he sat down and wrote feverishly for an hour, stuffing Sugar Quills in his mouth every fifteen minutes. After one final revision, it was only half past one, and he had finally finished.

Wearily, he rose from his seat and felt inclined to blow a kiss to the room. Scorpius realized how crazy that sounded a touch too late, but no one fell from the rafters to give him a weird look, thankfully. He began the perilous journey back to the Ravenclaw common room, hoping desperately that his luck would continue and he could just slip into bed without being detected.

Of course, his luck had dried up. There was a weird hooting sound coming from the ceiling. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, and scowled, “Peeves. I know you’re there. Would you please, for the love of Merlin, toss off.”

Peeves did no such thing, electing to scream “Student out of bed! Student out of bed! There’s an ickle wittle Ravenclaw wandering the halls!” Before Scorpius could jinx his mouth shut, he flew away, cackling. 

Scorpius really wished he had practiced Vanishing spells more so he could Vanish himself. Would make his life a little easier, anyway. He broke out into a run, hurrying into a staircase and running down the fifth floor corridor. To his distaste, he could see Mrs. Norris in the distance, her fur standing on end. Yep, he’d definitely been spotted.

Ducking into the staircase to Ravenclaw Tower, he huffed and puffed his way up the winding marble staircase. Why did Rowena Ravenclaw feel the need for such an elaborately exhausting staircase was beyond him at this moment in time. 

He knocked on the eagle frantically. “Hurry up please, give me a riddle!” Scorpius muttered anxiously, tapping his foot. He could hear Filch cooing to his ugly beast of a cat, asking her where the ‘ickle wittle Ravenclaw’ went. 

“What soars and falls without wings?” Scorpius groaned.

“ _Bloody_ hell,” he said before he could stop himself. He didn’t have the time for this right now. Screw Ravenclaw and their stupid, haughty desire for higher education. Which he obviously valued and appreciated. But not when he needed to escape detention.

“Incorrect,” the door responded. Scorpius thought it sounded a little cheeky. “Do you want to try again?”

“Yes, please,” Scorpius said, a tinge embarrassed. “My answer is hope.”

“I like the way you think.” The door swung open to reveal the common room. He swung the door shut behind him and paused to catch his breath.

As if his night couldn’t get any more packed with annoyances, Maxwell Thorne is sitting alongside the panicked Ravenclaws. His face splits into a wide grin. More like a smirk, the more Scorpius thinks about it.

“Hey, Scorpo!” 

If Scorpius could please be put out of misery, he’d kiss Dumbledore right on the mouth. The mental image combined with his roommate’s voice makes him shudder.

“Maxwell, I’m using one out of my two favors to make you shut the fuck up right now and let me go to bed, for the love of Merlin,” Scorpius snaps.

“Hold on. One of two favors? You said it would be one!” 

“After landing me in the hospital wing, I’m pretty sure I deserve an extra favor,” Scorpius responds. He’s so pissed that he feels as though remnants of Pepper-Up are coming out of his ears. Maxwell’s face shifts into something unreadable for a moment.

“But--!” He cries out. 

“Two fucking favors, dickwad,” Scorpius declared finally, his temper flaring. “Now shut your mouth and toss off.” He doesn’t stop to consider what Thorne would have been yelling. Probably at the unfairness of it all. Well, life isn’t fucking fair Thorne, Scorpius thought to himself. 

Maxwell has the intelligence to rearrange his face into something much more demure. Although it clearly pains him, he says in a sing song voice, “Alright, your wish is my command, master!” and disappears into the dormitory. 

Scorpius waited fifteen minutes to avoid running into his overdramatic roommate before dragging himself to bed. As he fell asleep, he cursed himself for using one of his two precious favors on something so stupid.

He dreamed that he was in the Transfiguration classroom again, except he was up to his neck in water. Panicking, Scorpius remembered that he didn’t know how to swim. His arms seemed to be tied to his sides. He gasped and choked for air, but sank like a stone. 

The water was murky. His wand was floating just above him. Try as he might, he couldn’t reach it. Not that he could’ve performed wandless magic anyway. Just as he felt his eyes begin to flutter shut, he saw the faint outline of another human body, swimming determinedly towards him. Green eyes wide open.

When he awoke, he was trembling. Scorpius continued to have a hand tremor for the rest of the day. All his spells went funny.

He almost wished, for a tiny second, that he took Divination and learned about the stupid dream journals that his classmates were suffering over. What could that awful nightmare possibly mean?


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Thanks,” Scorpius said, and he actually meant it. Whatever Maxwell was feeling, it was definitely genuine. When the other boy left, Scorpius realized that was the first time that Maxwell had ever addressed him by his full name rather than a nickname.
> 
> He flopped back onto his bed and stared at the ceiling. Maybe people do change, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After tomorrow's update, there will not be an update for two weeks as I will be out of the country. Don't miss these weirdos too much!

It’s nearly the end of October before Scorpius can even blink. The immense workload coupled with double-period classes makes the days zip by. Plus, he finds himself actually going to the Quidditch matches every so often, but he makes sure to stand in protected areas. Occasionally, he still ducks when a Beater hits the Bludger too hard.

The festivities are ramping up in preparation for All Hallow’s Eve. Hagrid’s gigantic pumpkins are a feat of wonder, and students have put up random, scary pranks for their friends and classmates to shriek at. Once, Scorpius found himself caught in a particularly nasty spiderweb in the corridor near Ravenclaw Tower. He couldn’t even move his hand to his wand-pocket to free himself. Eventually, a Gryffindor took pity on him and released him.

All he can really think about is how soon the first Hogsmeade weekend is. He’s itching to go to Honeydukes to pick up more Sugar Quills. At this point, he probably has an addiction. He briefly entertains the idea of asking Al along. That’s making friends, he muses to himself, right, Dad? Scorpius can almost hear the elder Malfoy cursing the name of Potters, though only in jest. 

His dad would be ecstatic that he made a friend at all, regardless of their last name. The thought makes his heart sink into his stomach and curled its disgusting little tendrils around his ribcage. He felt like a balloon that had just gotten all of its air let out.

When he saw Al later in the corridor, he could only muster a weak smirk at him. Al’s eyebrows squished together, and he reached out his arm to grab Scorpius’, but all of a sudden students were cramming the hallways, and it was too late.

Scorpius didn’t go to dinner. Why he was feeling all nasty about this suddenly, he wasn’t sure, but if it meant that he had to indulge his moodiness by sitting alone and moping, by Merlin he was going to do it. In fact, he was doing a pretty fantastic job of being miserable when someone came in to make it miserable and angry.

“Why the long face, Scorpo?” He put his face in his hands. The universe was being especially cruel to him today. 

For a brief, shining moment, Scorpius pictured killing Maxwell Thorne just so he wouldn’t have to hear his high-pitched, obnoxious voice ever again. 

Thorne sat down on Scorpius’ bed, right next to him, ignoring when Scorpius inched away. “I didn’t see you at dinner, and a few people were asking where you went.”

“I’m sure they were,” he snarled before he could stop himself. He instantly regretted it. The last person on earth he wanted to vent to was Maxwell Thorne. Probably would go spill all his secrets to Witch Weekly and add quite a few rumors too, just for the hell of it.

When he looked up again, Thorne’s forehead was wrinkled. “Well… yeah, they were,” he said, his speech halting. He was waiting for an explanation. The second it became clear that Scorpius wasn’t going to give one, he moved on. “Emmy was telling a really great story about what you and she did during Herbology the other day. Y’know, with the Chinese Chomping Cabbage?”

Scorpius’ cheeks flushed. He did remember that. Vividly. The cabbage had mistaken his fingers for a carrot, and had bitten down with all of their might. In his pain-fueled panic, he had proceeded to hit Emmy in the face with the plant before dislodging at such a high speed that it shattered the greenhouse window and fell in the middle of the courtyard. Professor Longbottom had laughed hysterically for five minutes before taking 10 points from Ravenclaw. 

“Yeah, it was so funny! I can’t believe you flung it so hard that it shattered glass. And without magic, too!” Maxwell was guffawing quietly to himself, his face red with mirth. Scorpius cracked a small smile, but his heart wasn’t entirely in it.

“Anyway.” Maxwell cleared his throat pointedly. The blond Ravenclaw refused to rise to the bait. “I just wanted to… say hi, I guess.”

“Hi,” Scorpius said, albeit a little obnoxiously. Thorne’s eyes narrowed.

“I know we’re not friends, but…” the other boy’s voice softened. “I promise that if you told me something, I’d keep it secret. Really.” 

“Yup.” Scorpius really thought his pointed remarks were getting his response through. He desperately wanted to believe that Maxwell was telling the truth, but it felt weird to him, for some reason. Like the other boy was laying it on thick. Like he was almost guilty about something. 

“Alright,” Maxwell said, rising from Scorpius’ bed. Scorpius just looked up at him. “I get that you don’t really want to talk. I understand that. We haven’t really talked… well, ever, since we both got here.” He ran a hand through his hair, and then proceeded to curl a singular strand around his pointer finger. “But I wouldn’t mind if that were to change. Me and the other guys, we like you just fine, Scorpius. You can always chat with us.”

“Thanks,” Scorpius said, and he actually meant it. Whatever Maxwell was feeling, it was definitely genuine. When the other boy left, Scorpius realized that was the first time that Maxwell had ever addressed him by his full name rather than a nickname.

He flopped back onto his bed and stared at the ceiling. Maybe people do change, after all.

*

Merlin, it was a terrible idea. Terrible and hilarious.

Leo had just fluttered in, which meant that Scorpius’ terribly funny plan would come to fruition any second now. The Ravenclaw turned himself towards the Gryffindor table, attempting to look as inconspicuous as possible. However, he burst out laughing when he saw the second wave of owls flutter in, one carrying an incredibly red, easily distinguishable envelope. 

Some of the other Ravenclaw boys were fixing him weird looks now. They were friendlier than they had ever been, but they still weren’t best mates. Thorne gave him a smile from across the table, even though he had no idea what the blond Ravenclaw had been up to. 

Scorpius made sure to pay careful attention to the unfolding events at the Gryffindor table where Al was sitting, perplexed. His eyes were wider than saucers, and Scorpius could see that his hands were trembling when he picked up the letter. 

Part of Scorpius twinged. Al looked like hell. Which meant that he’d done a good job with his prank. Scorpius had even had the letter sent from the Potters’ household so that it would be postmarked as such, which took quite a bit of training for his post-owl. 

He could hear the chatter across the Great Hall cease. Al’s Gryffindor friends and his brother were sidled up to him, partly concerned and partly eager to hear Al get what they believed to be the talking to of his life from one spectacularly angry Ginny Weasley.

“C’mon Al, open it,” coaxed James. “It’s better to get it over with.” 

Scorpius smirked. Someone kicked him from across the table. After glancing up, he came face to face with Rose Granger-Weasley. 

“You have everything to do with this, don’t you?” she accused, jabbing a finger in his chest. “I swear, you’re going to give that poor boy a heart condition!” Rose paused, and then her mouth dropped open. “I’m… so sorry. I didn’t even think. I’m so horrified with myself, Merlin, Scorpius--”

“It’s fine,” he cut in. He held out his hand across the table. Rose raised her eyebrows at him. “Let’s do our introduction over again. Hi, I’m Scorpius Malfoy.”

The ginger girl giggled. “Hi, I’m Rose Granger-Weasley. Nice to finally meet you after coexisting for five years.”

“Same here. Now shush!” Scorpius said. “The good part’s just about to start.”

James’ voice sounded clearly once again. “It’s going to keep getting hotter if you leave it alone. Then it will explode. Sooner or later, it’ll start biting you.” Scorpius knew that Al was wracking his brain, trying desperately to determine what he could’ve said or done to upset Ginny that badly. 

With a deep breath, Al opened the Howler. It shrieked, and a mouth unfurled from the pages. It rose maybe ten feet, before shuddering, and saying,

“HI AL!”

in Scorpius’ voice at full volume. There was a brief moment of silence, before Rose burst into giggles over her cereal. In fact, she laughed so hard that milk came out of her nose. Before long, the entirety of the Great Hall was in hysterical laughter, Scorpius included.

He turned to look at Al, and his heart skipped a beat when he saw that the Gryffindor boy’s face was shiny and red. Scorpius started to rise and was about to explain himself when he realized that the other boy was laughing so hard that he was crying. James was standing there, hovering, absolutely speechless. 

It was a moment that Scorpius swore he would never forget. 

*

Things started to change in weirdly wonderful ways. 

He and Rose quickly became the best of friends. They bonded over their shared love of gossiping about other students and theories behind magic. They swapped notes, compared essays, teased the Gryffindor prefects mercilessly. Scorpius found himself giggling. Giggling. It was like first year all over again!  
Much to his surprise, Maxwell Thorne was beginning to look like a great friend to have around. He was pretty secretive, and accomodated Scorpius into his group of friends the best he could. Whenever he was about to run out of quills, Scorpius found a brand-new collection of quills on his desk, and while Thorne would never admit that he’d bought them, he would always smirk before wondering aloud where they came from. For someone who was so good at keeping secrets, Thorne was a terrible liar. 

And, of course, Al. They didn’t spend nearly as much time together as he and Rose did, but that was because they weren’t in the same house. There were so many more memorable moments with Al, like the time Scorpius was trying to slice salamander intestines for a potion and accidentally hit Al in the eye with a pea-sized salamander stomach. Or the time that Al nearly chopped Scorpius’ ear off when he slipped on an unidentified liquid in the dungeon and lost his grip on his knife. Every moment felt a lot more significant. And no one made him feel all warm inside like Al did.

Even just thinking about the messy-haired Gryffindor boy made him smile. Scorpius chewed thoughtfully on the end of his quill before beginning to write his letter.

_Dear Ole Dad Draco,_

_I miss you terribly. But life’s definitely been getting better at Hogwarts. I’ve even made quite a few friends! I know you were never terribly close with Harry Potter, but his son Al is wonderful. He’s my partner during Potions and Advanced Transfiguration, and he never fails to make me laugh. And I’m quite close with Rose now. We gossip all the time about what happens in Rowena Ravenclaw’s sacred tower full of drama and mischief._

_Classes are good! Potions is wonderful as ever. We’ve just gone much further in depth about the actual formulas behind Transfiguration and the theory that explains why and how magic works in the world. You know I’m rubbish at the actual wand-whirling end of it, and Al’s quite terrible with numbers and letters and equations, so we balance each other out nicely._

_I’m very excited for Halloween this Friday! All the more reason for you to send me extra candy! Just kidding. I’d probably die of sugar overload or something ridiculous like that. I’ll send you some of Hagrid’s extra-large pumpkin seeds dipped in chocolate. I know they’re your favorite._

_Write soon._

_With all my love,_  
Scorpius  
  
*

“Boo!” Al jumped from behind a wall, grabbing an unsuspecting Scorpius by the shoulders and shaking him. 

“Ah! Fuuuu… dge!” Scorpius quickly corrected, putting a hand over his chest and wheezing for a moment. “Fudge cakes! I love those! Wasn’t about to swear, I promise!”

“Of course not,” Al smirked. He ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to make it stand even higher and unrulier than before. “Happy All Hallow’s Eve, Scorpo!” 

The blond Ravenclaw returned the greeting as enthusiastically as his friend. Best friend. He still wasn’t quite sure how to label Al, but he knew that the Gryffindor had a special place in his heart. 

“What are you planning for tonight? Other than the feast, of course,” Al asked, a twinkle in his eye. Scorpius shrugged good-naturedly. 

“Probably gonna check on the Owlrey, see if my dad sent me Sugar Quills or if he’s actually trying to keep me off of sugar for ‘as long as possible,’” Scorpius said, rolling his eyes at the last bit. “What about you, Ally pally?”

The Gryffindor let out a derisive snort. “Feast, then sleeping for maybe a million years.” The two friends wandered aimlessly around the corridor for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts.

“Wanna go to Hogsmeade with me? Tomorrow,” Al proposed. Scorpius blinked absently at him. “Y’know, tomorrow. First Hogsmeade trip of the year? We could grab Sugar Quills if your dad doesn’t send any, from Honeydukes. And send him one of the super fast owls to let him know how you feel about it. And grab some butterbeer-”

“Sounds great, actually,” Scorpius interjected. “Yeah, that’s awesome! I’ll meet you right outside the Gryffindor common room?”

“You’re not supposed to know where that is!” The Gryffindor had the air of a frantic child who was just informed that someone had opened his presents for him on Christmas. His friend had to resist the urge to bark out a laugh.

“Oh, well that’s hardly fair now, is it? Everyone know where the Ravenclaw common room is, as we’ve got a tower that sticks into the sky for it! Anyone who exists in a 50 mile radius of Hogwarts knows where I sleep,” Scorpius argued. “Plus, it’s not a big deal. Not like I’m going to sneak in and make you wet yourself by hexing you, or anything.”

“Damn, there goes my evening plans,” Al joked. Scorpius punched him lightly on the arm. 

The two boys were stopped in the middle of the corridor now, neither saying anything, but not attempting to move away either. They just stood there and grinned widely, before Al shook himself, as if he had been doused with cold water. “Shit! I forgot something. See you in a few hours, yeah?” he said. 

“Yeah. Well, from across the room. But yeah,” the Ravenclaw confirmed. 

The grin didn’t slide off of his face for the rest of the evening. 

*  
_  
Dear Son o’ Mine,_

_I’m sorry to disappoint, but the specialty candy shops in London were all out of Sugar Quills when I arrived. Probably because it’s All Hallow’s Eve, huh? Regardless, I’d make it up to you with another kind of candy, but I truly believe that you’ll cause all the teeth in your mouth to rot at this rate._

_I’m glad classes are going well for you, and that you’re making friends, even if their last names are Potter and/or Granger and/or Weasley. Maybe I should invite that family over for tea sometime. The Manor is certainly big enough to accomodate them._

_I loved the pumpkin seeds, as always. Thank you for remembering. I miss you a lot, too._

_Love,_  
Dad  


Scorpius smiled down at the paper. He wasn’t really all that disappointed at the lack of sweets, anyway. The letter meant far more to him than any crystallized feather of sugar would.

Content, he hovered in the Owlrey to pet Leo and feed him snacks. He was a touch sick of all the commotion going on in the Great Hall and common rooms. It was impossible to escape. Every corner he turned, someone would jump out and afflict him with an All Hallow’s Eve-themed hex that would mildly inconvenience him. Or someone would try to scare him. 

He briefly considered going back to that special room on the seventh floor corridor, but he didn’t want to miss anything, either. Just needed a break is all. Leo hooted softly and ruffled his feathers. 

“Hey, Scoro,” sounded from behind him. Scorpius scoffed at the ridiculous name. He didn’t need to turn around to recognize that voice. “Hiya, Al. You have a new nickname for me every week, huh?”

Now he turned over his shoulder. Sure enough, the Gryffindor was there, his Beater’s bat slung over his shoulder. The other boy was sweaty and streaked with mud, but grinning regardless down at the Ravenclaw boy. “Pretty much. Wanted to try a new one out, but it didn’t work so well. Anyway, I wanted to give you something.”

“Oh, really?” Scorpius was touched. And then his chest seized. “Wait, no, I didn’t get you anything! I didn’t know people exchanged gifts on All Hallow’s Eve! Don’t hate me!”

Al put his hand over the other’s mouth to quiet the nervous drabble, and with the other pressed a simply decorated box into Scorpius’ lap. The blond boy wasted no time in untying the ribbon and ripping open the package.

“Specialty chocolate Sugar Quills? But they were sold out a few weeks back!”

“Yeah. Uh, other shops had them,” Al said. His cheeks colored. That wasn’t true at all. The second they hit the market, he had made sure to beg his father to buy a package to be delivered to Hogwarts, pretending that he was in desperate need of the candy. He wanted to make sure Scorpius got them before they sold out. But it felt a little weird to say it aloud, so he kept quiet.

Wordlessly, Scorpius held out his arms. Al pinked even further before leaning down and resting his head on the crook in between the other boy’s chin and shoulder. “We hug now, huh?” he muttered, teasingly, but secretly enjoying how close they’d gotten.

“Yeah.” Scorpius pulled away. “Friends hug all the time!” There was a weirdly weighted silence that was interrupted only by the occasional noise of owls cooing softly. “Think of it as like… my gift for you.”

“Shit gift,” Al said, not meaning it whatsoever.

“Hey!” the other boy yelped. He stood up and swatted at Al with the box of Quills. Al pretended to moan and writhe in pain on the ground.

After bickering for a few more minutes, Scorpius held out his hand. “C’mon, let’s get to the feast! They’ve got all my favorite foods tonight.”

They stayed hand-in-hand for a touch longer than they needed to, but neither of them commented on it. They hugged now, after all. 

*

“Rose, I’m dying,” Scorpius moaned. She punched him in the stomach, which worsened his groans. “That wasn’t very nice!”

“That’s your own fault, for eating all those servings for dinner and then half the box of Quills? I think you have a serious problem concerning those things. They don’t even taste that good,” she said, wrinkling her nose. 

Scorpius felt exhausted. He leaned over to put a little of his weight on Rose, allowing his blond hair to flop in front of his eyes. Holding out his arms, he muttered, “Carry me, Rosie?”

“Don’t call me Rosie, or I’ll kick you,” she retorted. However, she didn’t protest when he gradually leaned a little of his weight on her.

As they trodded down the corridor, Rose spotted her cousin Al across the way. She did a little half wave, and then gestured at Scorpius, pretending to be exasperated.

The other boy’s head whipped up. He dropped his wand. Scorpius’ eyes were falling shut, but Rose paid careful scrutiny as the Gryffindor dashed out of the way of the two Ravenclaws.

“Huh,” she mumbled to herself, stumped. She stood there and tapped her foot, her eyes narrowing in concentration. Al’s behavior was pretty out of the ordinary. He only did that when he was angry with someone, or upset. “I thought best friends were a little more psyched to see each other. Maybe they fought without Scorp telling me?” 

She stopped giving it thought once Scorp started snoring on her. After shoving him awake and calling him a big fat lump of lard, Rose proceeded to forget all about Al’s odd actions after the feast, and neglected to ask Scorpius what was up with that.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Thought you’d want to be with Rose. Y’know, since you two are such good buddies,” the Gryffindor muttered quietly, so soft that Scorpius almost didn’t hear it. However, Scorpius had been gifted with an exceptional talent for knowing when his friends weren’t feeling right. His eyebrows shot up so fast that they almost flew off of his face at the comment, but he didn’t push his friend.
> 
> “I’ll get ingredients,” the Ravenclaw murmured. “And I love being your Potions partner. By the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys -- just a warning, the last two paragraphs contain a little bit of internalized homophobia. Just read carefully. And this is the last update until probably March 24th! See you soon :)

“Scorpius! Scorpius, wake up!” 

Scorpius awoke, gasping for air. Standing over him was Thorne, his brown eyes wide with concern. The nightmares had been getting more and more frequent lately. It was the same dream that he was drowning in the Transfiguration room, but this time, Al laughed at him as he drowned.

“Sorry,” he wheezed. “I get nightmares when I’m stressed.” Thorne hesitated before putting a comforting hand on the blond boy’s shoulder. “What time is it? Is anyone else awake?” 

“It’s only half an hour before we usually wake up. And no. Those guys sleep like rocks,” the curly-haired Ravenclaw said, jabbing a finger in his snoring dorm-mates’ direction. “Do you want to… talk about it?”

“Absolutely not.” Scorpius tried to ignore the way the other boy stiffened. They’d become a lot closer, but these dreams felt like something that was supposed to be kept quiet. Almost… too personal. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, apologizing again. “They’re just… they make me feel worse when I talk about them.” Which was true, but not the whole truth.

“Alright, Scorpius,” the other boy said. “Just… I’m always here, yeah? And I won’t judge you.”

Scorpius nodded, and the other boy retreated to his bed before drawing the curtains. There was no chance that he’d be able to go back to sleep, so Scorpius trodded to the common room to draft another letter to his father.

To his surprise, Rose was already awake. Actually, she looked as though she’d been awake the whole night. Her eyes were puffy and there were dark circles. Scorpius audibly gasped; she looked _awful._

“You look awful,” he said, and then winced at his own lack of tact. She glared at him, but her eyes were too unfocused to communicate any real malice. “Shit, Rosie, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she mumbled, lying through her teeth. “I’ve just been up all night trying to study for Ancient Runes. We have a big test today, and I really want to prove to the professor that I know what I’m doing.” 

“And?” he prompted. The way she gritted her teeth told him that she wasn’t telling the entire truth. Scorpius knew Rose inside out; if there was one thing they didn’t have, it was privacy. He could always tell when she was keeping a secret. 

“And… and… and nothing, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy!” she erupted at him, her eyes blazing. “You can’t make me talk to you about anything!” Rose seemed only somewhat aware that she was screwing up her own bluff. She huffed at the other boy and tried to look pissed, but her eyes were glazing over and starting to drift in two different directions. It would’ve been hilarious if it hadn’t been for a serious reason.

He held up his hands, which seemed to pacify the ginger girl. She slumped back into her seat. They were silent for all of twenty seconds until Rose said, “Al won’t talk to me.”

“I thought you guys weren’t that close to begin with,” he said gently.

“Well, yes,” Rose said, biting at her pinky fingernail, “but now all he does is glare at me in the hallways and rebuff me when I try to talk to him. He’s really angry at me, but I can’t tell why.”

“Did you hex him?” Rose Granger-Weasley was famous for both her intelligence and her hexes. She’d learned the Bat-Bogey Hex from Al’s aunt, and from there had expanded her repertoire to an impressive portfolio of hexes, including the Sardine Hex and the Pus-Squirting Hex. Scorpius was immensely glad that Rose liked him.

“No! Merlin, no, I haven’t done anything egregious, honest,” she said frantically. 

“I believe you. Hey, during Potions I’ll talk to him. Ask him what’s up,” Scorpius said. The ginger Ravenclaw girl melted into her seat with relief. 

“Oh, thank you, thank you Scorpius! I could kiss you!” she babbled.

Scorpius grimaced. “Please don’t. No offense.” There was something incredibly off-putting about the idea of kissing Rose, but he couldn’t exactly place his finger on what. Her expression told him that she felt exactly the same way. Her mouth was twisted as though she had just eaten an entire lemon.

“Really, none taken. I don’t know why I said that,” she said. She shuddered with horror. “Eugh.” He raised an eyebrow at her theatrics. “I don’t mean it like _that._ You’re not ugly or anything. It’s just weird. You’re like, my best friend.”

“You’re my best friend too,” he responded, though his mind immediately conjured an image of Al. Al, catching his and Rose’s eye last night, and then sprinting away. His stomach twisted in a foreign way. He shrugged it off. Probably craving toast and jam, or something. Scorpius was always hungry. 

“Well, now that we’re on the same page, wanna head to breakfast? At least get some food into you if you didn’t sleep that well last night,” he said, trying desperately to find a solution to his sudden stomach pain. He felt it deep within his ribcage, too, whatever this yucky sensation was. Probably just sugar withdrawals. 

“Yeah, fair,” Rose responded, before linking their arms together and walking down to the Great Hall.

*

Al was late to Potions. Al, who was never late to any of his classes, burst into the dungeon fifteen minutes late, sweat sticking to his forehead. Scorpius tried not to let his jaw drop wide open.

The Gryffindor looked like he’d been to hell and back. In fact, he looked even worse than Rose had this morning, which was an impressive feat. His eyes were bloodshot, his mouth drooped at the corners, and he looked utterly exhausted. 

He slumped into his seat beside Scorpius, but before the Ravenclaw could say his name, he had turned his back on his friend to pay attention to the professor. Scorpius, thoroughly smarted, winced and pulled away. 

“Alright. Now that you understand the assignment, pair off. You have forty-five minutes to assemble the potion,” drawled Professor Nott. He stared at Al Potter unblinkingly, neither calling him out for being late nor allowing him off the hook immediately. When the Gryffindor finally flinched, the professor flicked his wand. “Begin.” 

“What potion are we supposed to be making?” Al asked, finally turning back to his friend. Scorpius tried to stop himself from grinning with relief. 

“Draught of Peace. Partners?” Scorpius said, wary of scaring off his friend again. When Al fixed him with a look, he hurried and rushed to add, “as usual, obviously, of course, who else. I don’t know why I asked.” Al shrugged in what seemed to be an attempt to look nonchalant, but ended up making him look smaller and sadder. 

“Thought you’d want to be with Rose. Y’know, since you two are such good buddies,” the Gryffindor muttered quietly, so soft that Scorpius almost didn’t hear it. However, Scorpius had been gifted with an exceptional talent for knowing when his friends weren’t feeling right. His eyebrows shot up so fast that they almost flew off of his face at the comment, but he didn’t push his friend.

“I’ll get ingredients,” the Ravenclaw murmured. “And I love being your Potions partner. By the way.” Al softened slightly. 

Scorpius let Al do the powdering of the unicorn horn and the moonstone. The other boy was a little overly vicious with his job, smashing the ingredients a touch too firmly. Ordinarily, the Ravenclaw would’ve been telling him off, knowing that Nott would be up their asses about the specifics of potion instructions. They’d probably get another lecture on the importance of following directions to the letter. However, Scorpius tried to forget about consequences like a hard-ass teacher and focus on his friend.

Which was hard. Normally Scorpius had no problem listening to Al and understanding him thoroughly. However, the Gryffindor was acting rather cagey. He wouldn’t look Scorpius in the eye, muttered all his responses to Scorpius’ good-natured attempt at polite conversation, and was positively destroying the ingredients for the potion.

When Nott said, “Boys. Play nice with the roots or I’ll dock points,” Scorpius had decided that that was enough. 

“Al.” The other boy clearly thought that obeying orders was optional. If he didn’t look like a kicked Kneazle, Scorpius would’ve jinxed the other boy. But Al was moping, letting his long hair obscure his eyes. 

“Al,” Scorpius tried again, trying very hard not to punch his beloved friend. “Al, if you don’t tell me what’s wrong with you, I’m never going to Hogsmeade with you ever again.” No response.

“I’ll hex you.” Again, no response. Scorpius tried to think of something so objectively horrible that Al would have no choice but to respond, even if that response resulted in Scorpius’ physical injury. Or worse, detention.

Scorpius tried one last time. “I’ll kiss Rose. On the mouth.” And that, apparently, was what did it. 

The next thing Scorpius knew, he was lying in the Hospital Wing again as Madame Elkin tutted over him. “Really, Mr. Malfoy. How many times will you end up in here as a result of young Mr. Potter?” She pointed out the potions on his table before retreating into her office. 

Scorpius turned his head to look at the chair beside his bed. Young Mr. Potter was looking more miserable than ever before, his head bowed. The Ravenclaw lightly punched his friend’s shoulder before wincing. 

“Whaddya do, huh?” Scorpius asked gently. 

Al cringed. “Um, apparently I did a Petrificus Totalus. But more forceful than necessary. Actually, I think I Stunned you on top of it. McGonagall’s bloody pissed. Doesn’t know how I managed to do it” He twisted his hands together in his lap. “Scorpius, I’ve made a right mess.”

“You’re a son of a bitch.” The Gryffindor jumped, and looked at his bedridden friend, eyes watering. His friend wore an eerie, kind smile, that one that didn’t really tell you what he was truly thinking. Scorpius had a faraway look in his eyes. “I hate you so much.”

“Scorpius…” the other boy said softly. “I don’t understand.”

“You jinxed me because you didn’t want to talk about your feelings?” And now, Scorpius was giggling. Full on giggling, like he was a first-year girl who just saw Harry Potter for the first time. Al sat there, rigid and unblinking, at the ridiculous display. There were tears of mirth streaming down the Ravenclaw’s face when he finally regained control of himself.

“Honest, Al! It’s not that hard!” Al started to scowl, before realizing that he didn’t really have the right to scowl. “Please,” Scorpius said, and then all seriousness was back. “Really, though. I’d much rather just talk about something than have you magic your way out of it.” He stretched, wiggling his toes. “Though jinxes are a start.”

Al snorted. “You’re out tomorrow, apparently. I have three detentions with Nott, which honestly sounds worse than talking about my feelings, or whatever.” He wrinkled his nose and stuck out his tongue in mock disgust. 

“Maybe you’ll talk about your feelings with Nott. Have a little heart to heart,” crooned Scorpius. Al very seriously considered firing off another harmless jinx before thinking better of it. He then shuddered with horror.

The Gryffindor turned to walk out the door, before turning around and whispering, “I’ll see you in the Great Hall later, yeah?”

“Yeah,” affirmed Scorpius. 

There was another long moment as Al stood there, torn between his impending detention and leaving his friend. He leaned over and squeezed Scorpius’ hand as though he was afraid he could break it. Before Scorpius could react, the Gryffindor had scuttled out the door.

Scorpius didn’t stop smiling for the rest of the evening for whatever reason, even when Madame Elkin had him drink a pain potion that tasted like hippogriff droppings. 

*

“I’m not dating Rose, Al, and you mean the world to me,” Scorpius said as he sat down next to his curly-haired friend. Rose stared at him for so long that food started to fall out of her gaping mouth.

“I’m,” Al started. And then stopped. “Score, you kinda summarized everything I was going to say to you. In fact, we don’t really need a big heart to heart. I think you know what I’m gonna say before I say it.”

“Fair.”

There was a pause.

“Rosie, dear,” Scorpius said. “There’s food on your chin.”

If Scorpius hadn’t dodged that hex as quickly as he had, he probably would’ve ended up in the Hospital Wing for a record-breaking third time on account of the Potter-Granger-Weasley family. Not that he really minded, deep down.

*

“What do you think he’s going to say?”

“I haven’t a clue, Ally,” Scorpius said. The Ravenclaw had snuck the Gryffindor into the common room. It was midnight, middle of a cold, clear December and they were waiting on an owl from Scorpius’ dad. 

Al had the wonderful idea that Scorpius should come over for a few days to the Burrow, hang out, spend time with the cousins, and relax with his best friend. Of course, given the long-standing history between the two families, Scorpius had decided that it was better off to ask in advance. 

All of a sudden, the fireplace roared. From it burst one very sooted, very perplexed Draco Malfoy. He sniffed, and dusted himself off. The two boys stood there, feeling their mouths drop open.

“Scorpius, dear,” the elder Malfoy said. Scorpius blinked up at his father. “And… Potter, of course,” he added. A twitching muscle in his jaw was the only thing that betrayed his otherwise expressionless visage. 

“Uh. Hi, Dad,” he said robotically, before shaking himself off. “Sorry. I’m just a little… surprised! To see you!” Scorpius felt himself squeak out the ends of his sentences. It’s not that he was afraid of his father; he wasn’t. He just really, really wanted to be able to hang out with Al for a few days over the holidays. 

“It’s of no importance, Scorpius.” He patted his son’s shoulder, and Scorpius grinned up at his dad. Meanwhile, Al was still standing their, jaw dropped, eyes wide.

“How did you… how did you get through the wards? What? How?” Draco and Scorpius shared a look, before the elder Malfoy began chuckling.

“Minerva and I made up awhile ago. I had express permission to Floo into Hogwarts after your… incident…” and here, Draco’s eyes narrowed in the direction of the Potter boy. Al looked down at his shoes. Draco cleared this throat. “But I’ve never felt the need to use my privileges until now.”

“So? What for? Why the change of heart?”

“Well, I wanted to respond to your letter as soon as possible, of course,” Draco said. “Though I thought it would be a more… private interaction.” And as if his point wasn’t already clear, he added, “I didn’t know Gryffindors could enter any house.”

“My fault, Dad,” Scorpius piped up before Al could even meet the elder Malfoy’s eyes. They both knew the truth: Al had wanted to glance over Scorpius’ notes for the Potions test tomorrow. And Scorpius had wanted to see Al before the upcoming Quidditch match. They missed each other, was all. They couldn’t explain why; they saw each other every day, but both felt an odd sort of longing when the other wasn’t around. “I wanted Al to help me with Advanced Transfig. I’m having problems with Conjuring, you know. It’s pretty tricky.”

“I see. Scorpius, would you mind showing me where your bathroom is? I really need to freshen up,” Draco said. Scorpius opened his mouth before his father tugged on his sleeve quickly. The Ravenclaw hastened to nod before leading his father to the bathroom.

Once alone, Draco removed his wand and executed a charm that would scrub his face clean of the remaining soot. “Scorpius. You know I love you--”

“Which is why you’re going to say no to me going to the Burrow,” Scorpius interrupted. He felt downright miserable. It was what he was anticipating the second he saw his father emerge from the fireplace, but he still felt let down.

Draco stiffened in an odd manner. At first, Scorpius was worried that he’d said something wrong. There was the queerest expression on his father’s face, one that he could understand bits and pieces of separately (the downward curl of his mouth, the furrowed eyebrows, the forehead wrinkles, the glinting sparkle in his eyes). Then, his father wrapped his arms around his only son. Scorpius felt him sink into the embrace and close his eyes.

“I was going to come here and tell you that there was no way you could go after that Potter boy landed you in the hospital wing not just once but twice. But,” he said softly, “Not only I am not convinced I could stop you, I think it would be good for you. Get out of the Manor for once, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” The Manor was massive and empty without her. They both skirted the topic, but Scorpius knew what his father was referring to.

“I’ll miss you, though,” the elder Malfoy stated. Scorpius then noticed that the twinkle in his father’s eyes was not a twinkle, but a misting. His heart twisted. He didn’t want to leave his father all alone.

“I’ll only be gone for a weekend, I promise. Then we can play catch, and go out to dinner, or something nice. I’ll be back before Christmas Eve, don’t worry.”

“Of course,” his father said, and the old Draco Malfoy was back. “Potter can’t make a roast like I can.” He puffed out his chest, all hints of prior sadness replaced by bravado and braggery.

“Hey, I’m not saying I was eavesdropping on you guys or something,” Al called from behind the door, suggesting that he was very much so eavesdropping, “but my dad’s roast is the best!”

Draco rolled his eyes, looking much like a teenager. “Potters,” he drawled. “All the same. No respect for privacy or the fine art of the Malfoy roast beef.”

Al opened the door, and grinned at Scorpius. Scorpius felt his stomach attempt to something that internal organs should not attempt to do. This foreign feeling was almost like when he was about to throw up, but instead of puking, he just started… smiling.

His father fixed him with a look, so he attempted to rearrange his face into something far more neutral. Telling from Al’s laughter, he had failed to do so. Al mouthed at his friend, _You look constipated, mate._ Draco put a hand on his son’s shoulder and smiled warmly, with more emotion and more meaning than Scorpius could possibly decipher at this hour of the evening. 

His eyes said that he knew something. They were twinkling in a reassuring and knowing manner. Like how Al got whenever Scorpius felt overly jittery about a Potions assessment, and his hands wouldn’t stop shaking because _Al, what if I fucked up?_

Scorpius blinked. And then the world fell into place. His father’s knowing glance. Why he never really wanted to kiss Rose Granger-Weasley. Why he only watched the guys fly during Quidditch (when he could see, at least) and never the girls. Why he always grit his teeth when snogging came up as a topic of conversation. 

There was another violent twisting sensation in his stomach, and all of a sudden, Scorpius found himself brought to his knees, shuddering. Distantly, he was aware that he was puking up dinner, and that he should be more concerned. Al was running towards him, his father towards the door, both thoroughly shocked and overwhelmed by the sudden change of events. 

The only thought on Scorpius’ mind as he emptied his stomach was, _I’m gay. I’m gay, I’m gay, and Dad and Al will hate me forever, and I’ll be all alone. I couldn’t have fucked up more._


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Gryffindor stopped walking, causing Scorpius to bump into him. They stood there, staring at each other in the hallway for Merlin knows how long, before Al gently put a hand on his friend’s shoulder.
> 
> Neither of them spoke a word for the rest of their stroll down the hallway to Advanced Transfiguration. Scorpius swallowed, feeling the knot in his throat, before firmly reminding himself that he had nothing to say to Albus Potter. Nothing at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends! Sorry for the hiatus, but I'm back now! I think I'll stick to Saturday updates. Also, I think I know where this little fic is going. Get excited!! If anyone is interested in being a beta, that would be appreciated. Enjoy!!

Madame Elkin said that it was just a bad case of food poisoning, that he’ll be fine, and that there’s nothing she can really do about it. Scorpius knows that only the last statement is true, but he doesn’t want to talk about _it_. The terrible truth of it all. The fact that he’s… gay. 

Even though it kills him to see his father’s worried glances towards him. The elder Malfoy even attempts to have a private conversation with Elkin, though in Hogwarts, private is nearly impossible. Their whispers carry across the Hospital Wing. 

“Isabella, do you believe it could be related to Astoria’s illness?” his father asked in undertones. Scorpius grimaced, but he had resolved to never tell anyone about his… preferences. Not even his father, to whom he told everything. 

“No, Draco. He probably just ate something that didn’t agree with him,” Madame Elkin whispered back as she changed the sheets on a nearby bed. “Or maybe a Puking Pastille. You know how popular that joke-shop is amongst students. It’s definitely a harmless prank.”

“You better be right,” his father responded sharply, before abruptly turning away. Scorpius knew how his father worried about his constitution. How desperately the elder Malfoy clung to a mask of indifference around outsiders. He knew his father so intimately, but he could not, would not bring himself to reveal his terrible secret.

Scorpius touched his cheek and realized it was wet. He sniffled once before turning over onto his side and screwing his eyes shut. 

The next day, after Madame Elkin released him and his father hugged him tightly before Flooing back home, Al arrived to bring breakfast and to walk him to class. They both were quiet for the first time since the early days of their friendship.

Finally, Al said, “I don’t think you actually had food poisoning.”

After composing himself for a moment, the Ravenclaw boy turned to look at his friend. The brown-haired Gryffindor had his eyes fixated pointedly on the ground as they walked.

“Okay,” said Scorpius. The other boy’s head whipped up. His eyes narrowed at his friend.

“You’re not gonna confirm that I’m right?” Al asked.

“I puked because I was freaking out,” Scorpius said simply. He had become exceptionally talented at saying half-truths. Lying made him feel like puking again. 

“Oh,” was all Al said. And then, “Oh Merlin, why didn’t you say so, Scorpius? I would’ve done something! I’m so sorry!”

“I just really wanted my dad to say yes, and I was so surprised when he did… I guess I just let my emotions get the best of me, is all,” Scorpius responded. There was a prickling sensation at the back of his neck. He ignored it. 

The Gryffindor stopped walking, causing Scorpius to bump into him. They stood there, staring at each other in the hallway for Merlin knows how long, before Al gently put a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

Neither of them spoke a word for the rest of their stroll down the hallway to Advanced Transfiguration. Scorpius swallowed, feeling the knot in his throat, before firmly reminding himself that he had nothing to say to Albus Potter. Nothing at all. 

*

“Your final assignment before Christmas holidays will be to write an essay,” droned Professor Binns. The entire class groaned thunderously. “On either a person or an event. You must consider both the importance of said event or person during their time period, as well as the modern significance.”

There was a stir throughout the History of Magic classroom. The word ‘modern’ was not often uttered from Professor Binns’ mouth. It would make the research a little more bearable for many. Scorpius, for one, was enticed by any idea that gave him a little control over what he researched. His brow furrowed as he weighed his options. Maybe he could explore the American Salem Witch Trials further?

His bubble was burst when Binns uttered, “I will assign you all both a person and an event. You have to do preliminary research on both before deciding.” There was another definitive exclamation of annoyance by the class. Scorpius almost felt like joining in.

Binns proceeded to call up each member of the class to assign them their topics. “Malfoy, Scorpius,” he called, and Scorpius rose to his feet to trudge to the front of the classroom.

“You’re one of my stronger students, Mr. Malfoy, so I expect that you can tackle more difficult topics. I therefore assign you the Veela Outbreak of 1534 for your event, and Augustus Rosier for your person.” Scorpius hurried inked the information onto his parchment. “I trust that you will do good work on this assignment, Mr. Malfoy.”

“Thank you, Professor,” the Ravenclaw intoned. The professor’s praise sparked no reaction in him. He just wanted to get the essay over with. Merlin, was he sick of History of Magic. 

After he had called the last member of the class up to receive their topics, Binns murmured, “Class dismissed,” before disappearing through the blackboard. Scorpius gathered his textbooks and his parchment and departed to the library, eager to get some of his work done during his free period.

To his utmost disappointment, the Veela Outbreak of 1534 was exceptionally boring. All they did was seduce a handful of Muggles before killing them, but not in any way particularly exciting. Just standard fireballs. He dutifully wrote notes on the subject before resigning himself to write his paper on the decidedly more stuffy Augustus Rosier. 

Rosier had been far more difficult to research. He’d had to ask the librarian multiple times before digging through ancient bound books. His name had been mentioned in the book outlining the Sacred Twenty Eight, but other than that, information on him was hard to come by.

Scorpius cracked open a book titled _Five of Wizarding History’s Forgotten Wizards_ and began to read. 

_Augustus Rosier was an exceptional example of what occurs when a wizard dares go against societal norms. Born in 1772, he graduated top of his class at Hogwarts with an immediate acceptance to work for the Ministry of Magic. However, he turned this position down to travel to America and work closely with the wizards and witches scrambling to deal with the aftermath of Dorcus Twelvetrees’ horrendous error and breach of secrecy. Rosier was selected to fill a position of international wizarding diplomat between the Ministry of Magic and MACUSA. But in the end, he was fired by Rappaport herself as a result of his active campaign against Rappaport’s Law. Rosier returned to Great Britain afterwards and took a position within the Muggle Liaison Office, eventually becoming its head. His work with Muggles and Muggle awareness was remarkable. Ultimately, Rosier lead a life of tragedy; he was fired and later killed himself as a result of --_

Covering up the rest of a sentence was a massive dark brown stain. Scorpius frowned at the page. Rosier’s section wasn’t that long to begin with, but whoever had used this book last had decided to mistreat a library book and cover up the only interesting information. Scorpius found himself wanting to figure out how the book ended. 

With a huff of annoyance, he took the book with him (along with two other books that indirectly mentioned Rosier’s work) back to the Ravenclaw common room for further exploration. After he grabbed some dinner, of course. The Ravenclaw wasn’t such a nerd that he’d forego dinner for his homework.

Merlin, who even did that? 

*

When Scorpius returned to the Ravenclaw common room, he found Rose sitting on a sofa, working diligently on Ancient Runes homework.

“Hey, Rose,” Scorpius said. Rose’s stomach grumbled on response, and he laughed aloud.

“Did you… actually work through dinner?” he asked, though he already knew the answer, judging by Rose’s noisy stomach and her irritability. 

“Why yes, I did,” she responded, fixing the blond boy with a glare. “Ancient Runes won’t solve themselves, you know. An Outstanding in my classes doesn’t just Apparate out of nowhere.” 

Scorpius felt slightly miffed. It must’ve shown on his face, because Rose immediately added, “though I know you must be working as hard as I am. Sorry, Scorp. Wasn’t thinking.” 

“S’fine, Rosie.” He sat down next to her and selected one of his textbooks on the mysterious Augustus Rosier and began to read once more.

_Rosier was known to be an exceptionally private wizard. Even though he was well-known during the late 18th century and the early 19th century, he never told a soul about his family. Only after his death did a cousin come forward and discuss Rosier’s home life._

_According to Elizabeth Rosier, Augustus was born to Samuel Rosier and a mother who died mere hours after Augustus’ birth. He grew up an only child. Many of his classmates mentioned how adoringly Augustus spoke about Hogwarts and how the child only ever went home for the summer holidays. As a student, while he had few friends, he was rather fond of his best friend, Malcolm Prewett._

_Many spoke of their unnatural closeness, even in later life. The two were inseparable during the years at Hogwarts, and remained in close contact, even during Rosier’s years in America. Letters have been uncovered that allege that Prewett intended to move to America to be closer to Rosier. There was no need, though, as Rosier was forced to return home to Great Britain less than three months after the letter was sent in December of 1791._

_The ultimate confirmation was in--_

There was another massive stain covering the rest of the paragraph. Scorpius narrowed his eyes. This was starting to get annoying. How was he to write his paper if he couldn’t include any important information?

“Ugh, Rose,” he muttered. The other girl had fallen asleep with a quill stuck to her cheek and her face down in her Runes homework. He snorted before shaking her awake.

“Wazzup?” she said sleepily. After rubbing her eyes once or twice, she blinked at Scorpius.

“Can you help me out? I’m trying to research Augustus Rosier but all my books keep having massive stains over the good bits,” he complained. Rose tilted her head to the side.

“That’s odd. Lemme see,” she said. Scorpius passed the thick textbook over to her. She scrunched up her eyes at the book for a moment before exclaiming loudly.

“Someone’s tampered with it! There’s a Censoring Charm over the text, I’m sure of it. It’s been designed to look like an accident,” she said. “Unfortunately, I can’t get rid of it. Maybe try writing the parts of the essay that don’t need you knowing about his personal life first?”

“Fine, whatever,” Scorpius said. “I wonder how I’ll get information, though.”

Rose shrugged nonchalantly before turning back to her Ancient Runes homework. They worked in silence, Scorpius occasionally pausing his writing to chew on the ends of his quill, Rose sometimes muttering aloud to herself.

After about three hours, Scorpius had written the majority of his essay. Now all he needed was the personal background on Rosier’s life. “Rose.” The ginger Ravenclaw lifted her head slightly to acknowledge she’d heard him. “Can we do something a little crazy?”

“Crazy? Oh, adventure? You know I’d die for that. Yes, absolutely. What does it involve?” she said.

“Uh, breaking into the library after curfew, going into the Restricted Section, and stealing any and all books on Rosier?” he asked.

Rose guffawed. “Merlin, we’re such Ravenclaws.”

“That’s a yes, right?” Scorpius asked, but he already knew the answer. 

“Oh, of course.” She grinned at him. 

*

After waiting until half past midnight, the two Ravenclaws expertly scurried out of their common room to the library. It took some careful tiptoeing and confirmation that they were alone, but after fifteen minutes of shuffling painstakingly slowly, they were finally at their destination.

“ _Lumos_ ,” Rose whispered. Her wand now showed the titles of hundreds of books. “Get a load of this one, Scorpius. _The Sweetness of Unicorn Blood_.” She shuddered. “Or _Mature Experiments with the Dead_. That’s disgusting. Who would want to get laid with a skeleton?”

Scorpius was no longer paying the ginger Ravenclaw any attention. His eyes had landed on a book titled _Gay Wizards and Witches of the 17th and 18th Centuries_. With some physical exertion, he managed to pull down the book onto the floor.

The book did not scream or curse at him, luckily for him. He flipped to the Index and discovered to his delight that there was a chapter on Augustus Rosier. Taking out a Quick-Notes Quills, he began to read the section aloud.

“ _Augustus Rosier was well known for his achievements in Muggle Relations in both British and American wizarding society. What is less well-known is his homosexuality. The young wizard had entered a carnal relationship with Malcolm Prewett as early as their years at Hogwarts together. Unfortunately, the two wizards belonged to the Sacred Twenty Eight; their families have attempted to purge any and all information regarding their sexual deviancy._

_The two lived together after Rosier’s disgraced return from America. They had sent letters when they were separated; Malcolm often wrote of his desires to be intimate with Augustus, which were obviously returned as evident in excerpts from their letters._

_The two wizards even attempted to adopt a child together. They filed under Augustus’ name; when their plans were uncovered, however, there was mass outrage at their “audacity” and their “flaunting of traditional values.” Effigies of Augustus Rosier were burned in the streets. His titles and prestige were revoked._

_Prewett was murdered in 1795 when attempting to go to work. Augustus Rosier killed himself just three days later. He died at the age of twenty three, disowned by his family and by the majority of the wizarding community. Most of his work has gone unappreciated or has been erased from history. His significance to the gay wizarding community, however, is massive. Many believe that he should be taught in wizarding curriculums to showcase diversity within the wizarding world._ ” Scorpius sniffled and stopped reading. Rose fixed him with a quizzical look.

“Sorry. That’s just...quite sad,” he mumbled awkwardly. “I’m tired. And finished. Can we go back now?”

The ginger Ravenclaw raised her eyebrows at him but nodded silently. The two packed up their things and walked slowly back to their common room. After giving the eagle on the doorway a satisfactory response to a riddle, Rose stopped Scorpius.

“If there’s anything you need to talk about, Scorpius, you can trust me,” she said simply. She turned away to walk to the girls’ dormitory.

Scorpius trudged back into the boys’ dormitory and felt his stomach twist. Now Rose thought he was gay. Was that such a bad thing? He really couldn’t make up his mind. It was a sin, and it wasn’t right, and it meant he wasn’t carrying on family honor. Then again, what did his father care for family honor? Wasn’t it Draco’s life goal to ignore Lucius’ wishes?

Regardless, being gay was horrible and confusing and felt terribly wrong but terribly right at the same time. And Binns was forcing him to confront all these nasty, conflicting feelings through a stupid essay that was proof of how close-minded wizards and witches could be.

He sniffled once more. Dammit, he thought to himself. Stop crying. He wondered if it was gay to cry all the time.

Suddenly, a realization hit him. There must be tests to figure out if one is gay or not. Probably in the Restricted Section, too. This was something he couldn’t use Rose for. Scorpius yawned massively, however, before he began to think too seriously on it. He resolved to find the answers tomorrow.

When he dreamed, he dreamed of green eyes, a small smile, and brown, messy hair that couldn’t be tamed. 

*

After a handful of hours spent pouring over the most ridiculous sorts of books, Scorpius Malfoy had discovered all the different stereotypes, assumptions, and apparent “proofs” of sexuality. Everything from the constitution of your wand to how you interacted with unicorns could determine whether you were gay or straight. 

Safe in his room once again, he poured over his notes. Unicorn hair core with a wand makes a wizard gay. Scorpius glanced at his wand. Yep, that was one telling sign.

Fervent love of Pygmy Puffs. He made a squiggle next to this box. He’d never owned one, but he thought the little beasts were cute. 

Able to touch a unicorn. That he wasn’t sure about. Maybe he should ask Al if he’d been able to touch one in the Gryffindor/Hufflepuff Care of Magical Creatures classes.

Adverse reaction to Smooth Tiggepuffs. Again, Scorpius had never come into contact with that type of plant. He could probably bother Professor Longbottom about that.

Scorpius gleaned nothing useful from the silly tests he’d unearthed. Perchance there really wasn’t a quiz at all that could tell you about your innermost desire. Then he blinked and nearly hit himself in the face. “Of course!” he shouted, before remembering that most of his house was asleep. He slapped a hand over his mouth before carefully exiting the tower. 

After the trek to the seventh floor, he began pacing the length, all the while thinking, I need to see the mirror of Erised. The one I read about. The one that shows one’s deepest desire. Maybe five minutes passed until a doorway shimmered into existence. Just before he stepped into the doorway, Scorpius took a deep breath and released it. He felt nerves tingling up and down his body.

The room was far smaller than he’d seen it before, maybe ten meters wide and fifteen meters long. The only object in the room was a full-length mirror. Scorpius screwed his eyes shut as he approached it. Finally, he wrenched them open.

At first, all he saw was himself. Eventually, another figure joined him. There was a child there, too -- no, two. Maybe three. They were clinging to Scorpius’ legs. And his father was there, behind him, with his hand on his shoulder. Draco was smiling at his son. One of the children attached to Scorpius began pulling at the sleeve of the other figure.

Scorpius turned his eyes to the other figure, feeling his breath catch in his throat. It was Al. The Gryffindor was fiddling absently with a wedding ring. One that Scorpius was wearing, too.

With all of his willpower, Scorpius tore his gaze away. Taking deep, shuddering breaths, he walked out of the special room and somehow managed to make it back to the dormitory before collapsing on his bed, sobbing. Not out of sadness, or happiness.

He felt so afraid. He didn’t ask for this. What if Al didn’t like him back? Scratch that, Al could never like him back. There was just no way. How would he tell his father?

What if he ended up like Prewett and Roiser?

*

He turned in his essay the next day. Binns muttered a thank you before starting an excruciatingly boring lecture. That was the normal.

Being gay was the new normal. Being in love with Al was, too. It took some adjusting; Scorpius had a hard time not bringing it up with his best friend, or with Rose. He confided in them everything up until now, and it took all of his willpower to prevent himself from spilling his own secrets. He had resolved from the beginning to keep everything regarding his sexuality under wraps.

One morning, he sat down at Ravenclaw table to find that Rose was sitting with Al. Scorpius had raised his eyebrows at this but decided not to comment. They were whispering together and occasionally glancing around.

Scorpius shrugged to himself before pulling out an Extendable Ear. After casting a quick Disillusionment Charm, he threw it onto the Gryffindor table and listened.

“...Really, though, I just wanted to know what’s up,” Al was saying. There was a crease in his forehead.

“I don’t know what’s up, Ally, but I’m sure that if he wants us to know, he’ll tell us. There’s rhyme and reason to him, you know,” Rose responded before shoving two pieces of toast in her mouth at once. Al grimaced at her. “Sorry,” she said through a mouthful of food. 

“I know. It’s just… he’s my best friend,” Al said, and with that, Scorpius’ heart sank down to his stomach. He pulled in the Extendable Ear, not caring about the rest of their conversation. There was a funny feeling that was eating at his heart.

Knowing that his two closest friends were talking about him was bad enough. But knowing that he was keeping a secret was worse. Nevermind that they didn’t know what it was, or that they weren’t going to press him on it. It meant that his secret was… real. And it hurt him knowing that he was hurting Al, even if it was unintentional. Scorpius didn’t know if he wanted to be gay or not, but one thing was for sure: Al could never, ever know about Scorpius' feelings for him.


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I just… was up. And about. And didn’t want to be in bed anymore,” Scorpius said, grimacing at how fake his own words sounded. Once again, Harry fixed him with a skeptical gaze, but didn’t comment further. “Sorry, Mr. Potter. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
> 
> Harry waved dismissively. “No, I was already up. Uh, nightmares,” he said. “Do you want me to put a kettle on?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I'd give you all one last nice chapter before I start being mean :) Enjoy it while it lasts!!

Before Scorpius could even blink, the term was over and he was packing his clothes to go to the Burrow. His hands quivered as he folded clothes into a trunk. After calling for a house elf to do an Undetectable Extension Charm so he could fit a few books in for some late-night reading, he sat back against his bed and gently wriggled his fingers through his hair.

There was a gentle rap at the door. Scorpius looked up, and shouted, “Come in!”

His father nudged open the door slowly, before sitting down gently on Scorpius’ bed. The two Malfoy men sat and looked at each other for a moment, before Draco said, “I’ll miss you.”

Scorpius felt his heart wrench a little. “I’ll miss you, too,” he responded. His father smiled down at him, before resting his hand on Scorpius’ shoulder.

“Are you all set to go, Scorpius?”

“Yes, Dad.” With some difficulty, he hoisted his trunk onto the bed. For a moment, the trunk’s lock appeared to be unsecured, and Scorpius dove forward to prevent any clothes (or his precious books) from falling out. Draco snorted at his son’s lack of gracefulness, which earned the elder Malfoy a light tug on his ponytail. 

Draco cast a quick Locking Spell just to double check and so his son would stop nagging him about it. Finally, everything was gathered in front of the Malfoy Manor fireplace.

Scorpius turned to look at his father. Spontaneously, he threw himself at his father, encircling his arms around his shoulders. His father leaned into the embrace. Scorpius could feel smile. 

“I’ll write!” the younger Malfoy said enthusiastically. 

“It’s only three days, Scorpius. I think I’ll live without you writing,” his father said, though they both knew he wouldn’t mind if a letter just happened to arrive out of the blue from Scorpius.

“Okay. Shoot, it’s almost five! Do you have the powder?”

“Wait a moment, Scorpius. Albus won’t die if you’re a few seconds late,” Draco said. Scorpius turned to his father with a question on his tongue. The elder Malfoy curled his long, silvery-blond ponytail around his fingers. 

“If… if there’s anything you need to talk about, with me,” Draco said, the words coming out slow and stiff, “I want you to able to say it to me. Alright?”

“Alright, Dad,” Scorpius responded. He felt the color rise in his cheeks. “Everyone keeps telling me that, but I don’t know why.”

His father looked at him for a moment before breaking into another radiant smile. “It’s just to show we care about you, Scorpius.” He ruffled his son’s hair. “You know that, right?”

“Of course, Dad,” Scorpius said without a moment’s hesitation. 

They both grabbed handfuls of Floo powder and declared, “The Burrow.” There was a great flash of fire, and then they were off.

Scorpius blinked in the sudden change of light. They were alone in what appeared to be the living room of the Burrow. Gently dusting the soot off of his shoulder, he stepped out into the spacious but cozy room, his father on his heels.

“AL!” he called out. Within seconds, a loud thumping sound could be heard emanating from above. 

“COMING!” bellowed a familiar voice. A certain messy-haired, crooked-smiled boy peeked his face around the corner. Al rushed over to greet his friend with an enthusiastic hug.

Scorpius tilted to his left, off-balance, before hesitantly raising his arms to return the embrace. “Oh. This is new. Not bad-new, obviously, but new…” Feeling himself beginning to babble, Scorpius slowly trailed off before staring at his father. Draco was grinning widely at his son; the second he caught his son looking at him, however, he manipulated his face into a neutral, almost stern expression. Scorpius’ eyebrows creased together. What in the world had gotten into his father?

“DAD! The Malfoys are here!” Al called, cupping his mouth with a hand. Before long, all of Al’s immediate relatives had gathered in the living room.

Harry smiled at Draco and offered a hand, which Draco accepted. “Stop gaping at me, Scorpius. You’re surprised I’m showing common courtesy?”

“No, I just… I just…” Scorpius said, at a loss for words. There was a burst of laughter from the Potter family. “Nevermind.”

James Potter, Al’s elder brother, nodded quickly at Scorpius before scampering away. His younger sister (Lily maybe?) grinned and gave a boisterous wave. Scorpius smiled shyly in return. 

“I’ll be off, Pott-- Harry,” Draco said, quickly amending himself. He drew his son into one last hug before disappearing into the flames.

“C’mon, Scorpius! Let’s put your stuff down in our room!” Al said, almost leaping to relieve Scorpius of his trunk.

“Our room,” Scorpius echoed. He wasn’t sure why he felt surprise; he knew that he’d be sharing a room with Al… but regardless, the funny stomach sensation was back.

Scorpius felt the color drain out of his face. What if he had one of those dreams? He shook himself vigorously to try to get his mind off of it, but the more he tried, the more he couldn’t stop thinking about those blasted freckles…

“Whatcha thinking about, Scorpie?” Al said, breaking into Scorpius’ thoughts. 

“Freckles,” Scorpius said without thinking. Realizing how weird his comment sounded, he scuffed the ground with a toe. Al’s ears flushed a dark maroon color, but he didn’t make any further comment. 

“You look really tired. You must’ve not gotten enough sleep last night,” Al remarked as they climbed up the stairs, Scorpius’ massive trunk in tow. “Too busy being excited to see me?” He wiggled his eyebrows in an endearing manner. Scorpius would’ve knocked their shoulders together if he hadn’t been assisting Al with the trunk and… if not for his tiny problem. There was a twisting sensation in his stomach, and he felt himself blanch slightly against his will.

Al must’ve seen the way his expression changed, because he dropped the subject almost immediately, instead chattering about Quidditch and how James was such a cheater when they played together as a family. Scorpius was grateful for how Al knew exactly what to do, always.

Finally, after what felt like hours but was definitely less than five minutes, they arrived at Al’s (and Scorpius’) room. Huffing, Scorpius collapsed on the first bed he saw. Al let out a strangled chuckle; he sounded as though he’d tried to not laugh, but failed miserably. The Ravenclaw picked up his head to glare at his friend.

“That’s my bed, but you seem rather attached, so I guess you can keep it while you’re here,” Al smirked. Scorpius opened his mouth, but he had no reply ready. Thankfully, Al followed up with, “Dinner’s probably ready by now. Wanna help set the table?” 

“Yes, absolutely.” Staying here would be the death of Scorpius, mark his words.

*

Scorpius awoke with his heart in his throat, sitting straight up in a bed that did not belong to him and in an unfamiliar room. It took him a few moments to remember he was at the Burrow, that he was safe, that Al was there. His whole body was wracked with an involuntary shudder. The nightmares never got easier, just more complex. Al was almost always getting dismembered, or dying, or laughing at Scorpius. They were happening almost every night.

Blearily, he reached for his wand and whispered, “Lumos.” The clock in the far corner of the room showed the time: 4:53 in the morning precisely. With a groan, Scorpius threw an arm over his eyes to no avail. There was no way he’d be able to go back to sleep. 

Gingerly, he got out of his bed and tiptoed down the staircase. Maybe, with a little luck, he’d be able to find the bathroom and wash his face and get back to sleep. Unfortunately, he ended up taking a wrong turn and found himself in the kitchen.

Somehow, despite the fact that everything was pitch-black, he managed to locate a chair. Scorpius pulled out his wand and cast a small, dim light. He found an old copy of The Daily Prophet and began to read yesterday’s inane gossip.

Fifteen minutes later, he heard a loud crashing sound. “Fuck,” he swore before he could stop himself. Al must’ve realized that he was gone and was looking for him. Scorpius stood up, brandishing his wand (just in case there was some monster he needed to rescue Al from, like a spider), and walked determinedly into the hallway and straight into--

Harry Potter. The older man let out a sizeable “Oomph!” of surprise and stumbled backwards. Scorpius squeaked, thoroughly startled. 

“Sorry, I didn’t see you there. Didn’t think anyone else was awake, actually,” Potter said. Scorpius nodded, struck dumb by the presence of the war hero. Harry just raised one eyebrow at his son’s peculiar friend. “What are you doing up at this hour?”

“I just… was up. And about. And didn’t want to be in bed anymore,” Scorpius said, grimacing at how fake his own words sounded. Once again, Harry fixed him with a skeptical gaze, but didn’t comment further. “Sorry, Mr. Potter. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Harry waved dismissively. “No, I was already up. Uh, nightmares,” he said. “Do you want me to put a kettle on?”

“Yes, please,” Scorpius said. Harry moved towards the cupboards and began boiling the water.

“Sometimes, I drink chamomile tea when I have a hard time going back to sleep. I usually just take a Sleeping Draught, but if I were to take one now, I’d be out until three in the afternoon,” Harry said with a chuckle. Scorpius joined in rather weakly. 

After a few minutes of aimless chatter, Harry placed a mug of tea before Scorpius. He drank it with three gulps, relishing the warmth that spread through his body, all the way to the tips of his fingers.

Harry just sat across from him, stirring his tea slowly. Eventually, he said, “Were you up because of a nightmare, as well?”

Scorpius stiffened. He didn’t want to talk about something so personal with his best friend’s father. He hadn’t even brought it up with his own father. Nevermind that it involved him sharing the one secret he swore he’d never tell a soul… nevermind that secret involved Harry’s son. 

“It’s alright if you don’t want to share the specifics. I had the hardest time talking about my nightmares,” Harry said. “They felt too embarrassing. Raw, almost. I never wanted anyone to know that I was hurting, too.”

Before he could stop himself, Scorpius uttered, “They’re about my loved ones.” He quickly amended his sentence, adding, “Friends. Y’know.” He heard his voice crack midway through the word ‘friends.’ Harry’s head lifted a fraction of an inch; he made careful eye contact with his son’s best friend. Scorpius tried to read his expression, but Harry’s eyes were obscured by his glasses, which reflected the light being cast by his wand.

Eventually, Harry reached out and gently (albeit awkwardly) patted Scorpius’ arm. “It’s alright, Scorpius.” Scorpius felt himself nearly begin to cry; mortified beyond belief, he turned his face to the side and wiped it absently with his sleeve.

“I won’t tell Al about this if you don’t want me to,” Harry said. 

“Th-that would be very kind of you, Mr. Potter,” Scorpius mumbled, sniffling slightly.

“Harry is fine, Scorpius,” Harry corrected. “Do you want more tea?”

“That would be nice,” Scorpius said. 

When Al came down to breakfast hours later, he found a bizarre scene: Scorpius was slumped forward, asleep on the table; his father was reading the newspaper and appeared to be… drinking Scorpius’ tea? He didn’t want to ask. And, regardless, Harry wouldn’t have answered him. A promise is a promise, after all. 

*

“Scorpius, dear, would you and Al mind helping out with Christmas Eve dinner?” Ginny called from down the staircase. Scorpius smiled at his best friend’s napping form. Al had mastered the art of switching seamlessly between “uncontrollable ball of energy” and “needs a nap right now.” To Scorpius, it was endlessly endearing.

“Of course not, Mrs. Potter!” he yelled back. 

“Scorpius!” Ginny chided. “I thought we’ve told you to call us by our first names. Scorpius flushed a bright pink color.

“Sorry, Miss Ginevra,” he responded. His father taught him manners, after all.

“That’s… not much better. A start, but not much,” Ginny said, sighing to herself. 

“We’ll be down in five!” Scorpius called. He hesitated a moment before waking up Al, looking at the splash of freckles across his friend’s nose. Swallowing hard, he shook his friend’s shoulder firmly. 

“Hngh?” Al said, in an exceptionally articulate manner. Scorpius let out a bark of laughter.

“We need to go help with dinnertime, sleepyhead,” he teased. Al stuffed his head back into the pillow.

“Five more minutes, please,” he groaned. Scorpius shook his head, bemused. Before he could retort, however, Al had encircled an arm around his shoulders and was pulling the Ravenclaw into the bed with him. Scorpius sputtered, turning even more pink than before.

Al had his arms around Scorpius’ neck. Scorpius’ arms dangled awkwardly at his sides; he worried that any move he makes might be viewed in the wrong way, and that then Al would hate him, and then he’d have no best friend--

As if he could sense Scorpius was overthinking, Al nestled his chin in the crook between Scorpius’ chin and his shoulder, the wide expanse of pale neck. Scorpius’ eyes fluttered shut against his will.

“Fine. Five minutes,” Scorpius said, trying to pretend his voice wasn’t higher than normal. Al was already asleep again, drooling on Scorpius. Oddly enough, Scorpius didn’t mind that much. 

*

They were late to dinner preparation, but it didn’t matter that much anyway. There was still lots of tasks left to be accomplished; the entire extended Potter-Weasley-Granger family would be there, after all. Cooking needed to be done for all the grandchildren, all the unexpected significant others, all the husbands and wives and sisters and brothers and--

“Mum, I think Scorp gets the picture. We’re sorry for oversleeping. What do you want us to do?” Al said, cutting off his mother mid-sentence. Ginny continued to fume quietly before sending them off to help James with the potatoes.

James grinned at the two boys. “Hey there, Scorpo,” he said, nudging Scorpius’ shoulder. Al sent his brother a flat glare, which James ignored. “Not sure why we’re doing this the Muggle way. Doing it with magic would be a whole lot faster.”

“You know why we’re doing this, James. Family bonding and whatnot,” Al responded. Meanwhile, Scorpius had invested himself totally in the art of peeling potatoes. He’d never done it before. The first few times he attempted, he scalped the potato viciously. The next time, he left eyes all over the lumpy starch. Al chuckled at him each time, and fixed his mistakes with ease.

“So, what were you two really doing upstairs? Everyone knows you weren’t just napping,” James said, a few moments later. Scorpius dropped the potato. He leapt at the excuse to be out of view of James and Al; his face would otherwise be a dead giveaway. Scorpius knew he was a shit liar. 

“James, would you shut the fuck up?” Al snapped at his brother. Scorpius wished he could see his expression. How angry did he look? Was he disgusted? Upset? Mortified? All three at once?

“Language, Al!” his father called from across the kitchen. Al huffed.

“C’mon, baby bro! How far d’you get with Malfoy?” James paused, and then appeared to have a much more delightful way to embarrass the living daylights out of the two boys. “Maybe a quickie upstairs? Oh, and in Grandma Molly’s house! You dirty boys.”

“James Potter, shut up right this instant or I’ll make you regret it,” Al hissed. James paid him no mind. The potatoes would have been entirely forgotten at this point had it not been for Scorpius’ diligent peeling. 

“I bet you liked it, didn’t you, defacing your bedroom. Oooh, you’re nasty, Albus Severus!” James teased in a sing-song voice. 

Scorpius looked up, but it was too late. Al already had his wand drawn. “Al, don’t!” Scorpius cried. “You know you’ll get in trouble!”

“Listen to your boyfriend, Alby!” James said, dissolving into giggles. 

“Titillando!” Al yelled, sparks emitting from his wand. James collapsed in a fit of wheezing laughter on the kitchen floor. He spasmed occasionally, crying out for mercy and squirming. It was as if he was being tickled by an invisible and unrelenting set of hands.

“Albus Severus Potter, stop that this instant!” Harry cried. Scorpius muttered a quick Counter-Jinx, and James was freed from his torture. He sat up, looking immensely smug at his younger brother. Al aimed a kick at James, who deftly dodged the attack.

“What’s up with you, Al?” his father said, sidling up to his younger son. Al scuffed the ground with his shoe. Scorpius tried to pretend that the potato he was peeling was incredibly fascinating, and that he wasn’t listening in on their conversation whatsoever. He had become quite adept at potato peeling at this point. 

“He kept teasing Scorp and me. Saying we were… you know,” Al said vaguely. Harry scrutinized his son for a moment.

“I don’t know, Al. Would you mind elaborating?” Harry said gently. Al crossed his arms and looked to the side.

“That we were… in a relationship. Saying uncomfortable things about… you know...” Al screwed his eyes shut. “Sex,” he whispered in a horrified manner.

“Ah.” The father and son duo were silent for a long time. Scorpius hurriedly scraped the skin off of his potato as if his life depended on it. When he looked up, he saw Harry subtly glance in his direction. “I’ll tell him to stop, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Al said. An unidentifiable emotion had flit across his face for a fraction of second, but it was gone. His face had gone entirely blank. 

The tense atmosphere evaporated after Lily discovered just how to enchant her chocolate cake into singing. It promptly began to sing the poem that Ginny had written for Harry in 1993. Al’s mother groaned and covered her ears, but all the while smiled at her husband, who was reciting the words of the poem from memory.

“His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad…”

“Sappy lot, aren’t they,” Al remarked. “Kinda makes you wanna puke a bit, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Scorpius lied. “Dating’s...yucky.” His friend laughed and threw an arm around him. Scorpius ducked his head and focused on the potatoes. 

*

That evening, the entire Potter-Granger-Weasley family filed into the Burrow for their annual Christmas Eve dinner, including the grandchildren’s various significant others. Scorpius found it a little uncomfortable knowing that he was the odd one out for two completely separate reasons.

One, he was a Malfoy. Two, he wasn’t dating Al. 

Luckily for Scorpius, the conversation around his supposed relationship with Al started and ended up Teddy Lupin clapping Al on the back and bellowing “Congratulations on getting the guy, little buddy!” Al had turned bright red under his freckles, and Harry had quickly rectified the situation by announcing to the entire family that Scorpius was Al’s best friend, and wasn’t that nice?

Scorpius tried to ignore the look Harry sent his way immediately afterwards. He tried to ignore a lot recently, and he’d discovered he was quite shit at doing so.

It wasn’t long before dinner was being served. Scorpius was squished between Al and Al’s Uncle Ron, with Rose and Teddy sitting across from him. Everyone was shouting, laughing, and joking around. It was a touch overwhelming, but it was quite nice. People kept telling him about how exquisite the potatoes he cooked were, which made him blush and stutter out a quiet “thank you”.

“Hiya, Scorpius!” Rose called. She nudged his foot with her own, and before long, they were engaged in a violent game of attempting to kick each other subtly under the table. 

“Now, now Rosie! No need to play footsie at the table,” called Ron. The table erupted in laughter as Rose slowly withdrew her foot from under Scorpius’. Scorpius wanted to bash his head in with the plates before him. 

He glanced to his left, and saw that Al was scowling into his peas. Scorpius nicked a few. “If you don’t like your veggies, Al, I can eat them,” he said.

“Peas aren’t the problem,” Al grumbled, and then stabbed the pasta on his plate rather viciously. 

Scorpius patted his friend’s knee in what he hoped was a comforting and friendly manner. “I hope you’re alright.” His words and action did not have the desired effect; instead of soothing Al, he appeared to spasm wildly and throw his fork, steak and all (to Scorpius’ horror), right at Grandpa Arthur. 

“Filpendo!” Aunt Hermione cried, causing the steak to change course and fly at the window. It made a wet slapping sound against the glass before slowly sliding down. Everyone paused, watching its slow, sad journey down the glass, before roaring with laughter. Scorpius felt himself deflate a little with relief.

Al, who had gone completely red, shrunk down in his seat. Scorpius leaned over and said, “I’d try to be comforting again, but I’m afraid that you’ll throw more of your food.” Al chuckled and punched his friend lightly in the shoulder.

*

It was late in the night when Al and Scorpius had finally finished washing up. Exhausted, they both fell into their respective beds and turned off the lights as quickly as possible. They were both quiet for a minute before Scorpius broke the silence.

“Al?” Scorpius said.

“Yes, Scorpius?” Al mumbled sleepily. 

“Are you… are you mad at me?” the Ravenclaw boy asked tentatively, tapping his fingers against the mattress. Although it was pitch black, he still strained his eyes to try to see the nearly-asleep form of his best friend in the room. 

It was a few moments before Al responded, “Not at all.” 

“Okay.” Scorpius fell silent, thinking over what he wanted to say next. “I just wanted to make sure because… I know I’ve been acting funny the past two weeks, and I’m sorry about that,” he said. “I want you to know that you’re still my best friend.”

There was a creaking sound. Scorpius narrowed his eyes, but he still couldn’t see anything. After a minute, he could feel Al’s arms around him. “And you’re still mine, Scorp.”

“That’s good,” Scorpius said, the end of his sentence squeaking out. He cleared his throat, trying desperately not to focus on the warmth of Al. “That’s… really good.” There was the sound of Al’s socked feet padding away, back into his own bed. 

After nearly fifteen minutes, Al began to softly snore. Scorpius turned over onto his other side, and whispered to himself, “Though we could do better.” The thought bounced around his head until he fell asleep.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scorpius thought the world was truly, honestly, really losing its mind right now. He put his head in his hands, completely foregoing the rest of his breakfast. Thorne nudged his shoulder. “Hey, there’s no way this can get worse, right?” he said, though he didn’t look as though he believed his own words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Scorpius stop being such a FOOL you're ruining EVERYTHING

_Mr. Malfoy,_

_This essay is absolutely exceptional. You’ve gone above and beyond in your research. Definitely Outstanding material. If you’d forgive my asking -- do you have some sort of personal connection to Rosier? The way you write… but it’s only a thought. Well done._

_Professor Binns_

Scorpius couldn’t believe his eyes. Binns thought he was gay. He muttered “Incendio” before he can think better of it, and watched as his comments slowly shrivel up and burn. He wanted to cry, and then hit something, and then cry some more. If even Binns could tell he was gay, then Al and his father and everyone else certainly could, too.

It would take some drastic measures to keep his act up, but he was at a loss as to how to move forward. The Kneazle was out of the sack, apparently.

He found himself pacing the seventh floor corridor, thinking about how he needs to hide from the world for a little bit. The door shimmered into existence within seconds. Scorpius burst in and found a room with a comfortable couch, a stack of his favorite novels, and some Sugar Quills. Content for now, he settled in.

Before long, it had been nearly seven hours. Curfew was in fifteen minutes -- had he managed to fall asleep at one point? -- and, fuck, Rose was definitely worrying. Scorpius could practically feel the anxious energy in the atmosphere. 

As carefully and as quickly as possible, he walked back to Ravenclaw Tower with two minutes to spare. The eagle sprung to life, eager to ask its riddle. “I have a tongue, but cannot talk-”

“Shoe,” Scorpius responded. The eagle looked a bit cross at having been interrupted mid-riddle. The door swung open to reveal one nearly hysterical ginger witch.

“SCORPIUS MALFOY!” she shrieked at the top of her lungs. Scorpius wished he could sink into the floor and die on the spot. Or that he was battling a boggart. That would be far less terrifying than Rose Granger-Weasley when she was angry.

Rose launched herself at him and punched him in the chest with great force. With a massive “Oomph!” he fell backwards, hitting his head against the now closed door. The eagle was probably gloating, Scorpius thought to himself bitterly, rubbing the already-rising bump on the back of his skull.

“Where WERE you-- I looked everywhere-- the audacity-- I can’t believe!--” she screeched, cutting herself off every time she attempted to start a sentence. She punched him once more, and then crossed her arms.

“Rose,” he said, and felt exceptionally exhausted all of a sudden. “I’m sorry. I just--”

“No, you listen to ME, Malfoy, I was so worried--” she cut him off once more. Disgruntled, he tried to get her attention once more.

“Rose--” he called out. She ignored him. 

“I thought you’d run away or something stupid--” she said, nearly out of breath now.

“Rose, please--” he said, becoming frustrated. He was going to throttle her any minute now.

“You just looked so distraught after class!” she finally burst out. Scorpius felt his heart skip a beat. All of a sudden, he knew what he had to do. He just had to try it. To keep his secret safe, once and for all. Scorpius took a step closer to Rose, until they were just inches apart. Rose was looking at him as though he had a funny disease.

“You’re acting funny. What got into you?” she asked, scrunching up her nose. 

“I just,” he swallowed thickly. Every inch of his body was telling him not to do this. But he knew he had to. It was what boys were supposed to do. “Had to do this,” he said, and leaned in and touched their lips together.

It was awful. They both sprang apart mere milliseconds after the first brush of lips. Rose pulled a face. “What… was that?”

“Something we should never do again,” Scorpius said. Somewhere behind him, he heard a door swing open and shut very quickly afterwards. It added to his impending headache. His fingers brushed against the sore knot from when Rose pushed him over. “I’m sorry, Rosie, I… I thought--”

“I thought you were gay, Scorp!” Rose said. Scorpius felt his heart sink into his toes, if that were even possible. He must’ve made a sour expression, because she attempted to rectify her words immediately. “Sorry, I just. Assumed, I guess, which was wrong of me.”

It stung to know that people probably were guessing his biggest secret. But… it was the truth. Without thinking, he stuttered out, “I am, yeah.” And then looked down at his shoes. It was the first time he’d said it aloud. Scorpius hadn’t even whispered the words to himself. With that revelation, he began to sniffle. Rose tentatively patted his shoulder. “I’m… I just haven’t said that to anyone… ever before.”

“It’s alright, Scorpius,” Rose said. She pulled on his neck, forcing him forward. Scorpius reared back instinctively before realizing that they were hugging. He brought his arms to her waist eventually. “Al will still want to be your friend. And I still want to be your friend, too. And your dad won’t hate you.”

“How…” he sniffled. “How do you always know the right thing to say, all the time?”

“A Granger quality, probably. Hereditary,” she joked, but she didn’t stop hugging him for a few minutes longer. When she’d released him from her grip, she let out a barking laugh, and said, “Thank Merlin no one was there to see that, though. Fuck, that would be horrendous.”

*

When Scorpius arrived at the Great Hall for breakfast the next morning, all chatter ceased. It became so pointedly silent that one could hear the gentle scraping of some second-year Ravenclaw’s fork. Her friend elbowed her, and she looked up at Scorpius and gasped.

If he felt like the world was ending when he came out to Rose yesterday, he was certain that it was going to implode currently. His chest felt like it was shrinking. Why was everyone deadly silent? There was no way they could know about him, right? Rose was trustworthy… right?

People began to talk once more, but at a whisper, stealing glances at him occasionally. There was sweat building at the nape of his neck. He tried to get toast nonchalantly, but he was failing miserably. His hands were shaking as he tried to walk back to the Ravenclaw table, and he barely avoided spilling his food everywhere.

Rose wasn’t down yet, so he couldn’t strangle her immediately. But when she did come down, he was going to kill her. How dare she reveal things that weren’t hers to tell? Tears were springing in the back of his eyes. He took a massive bite of his toast and chomped it down angrily.

“Hey,” said a voice. He looked up and saw Maxwell touching his shoulder gently. “You know what they’re gossiping about, right?” Scorpius shook his head, and Maxwell’s dark brown eyes softened. “That you kissed Rose. It’s not true, isn’t it?”

Scorpius choked on his bite of toast. “I mean. Technically yes, but not really, no.” Maxwell’s eyebrows shot up into his dark, curly fringe.

“That’s… the most illogical statement I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth. What’s that even supposed to mean, Scorpius?” At any other time, Thorne would be giggling at how stupid Scorpius sounded. But his expression was sincere. _Shit_ , Scorpius thought. _He knew something was wrong. He can’t know, too._

“I kissed her, but I didn’t really want to. I just did it ‘cause I felt like I had to,” Scorpius said. Thorne looked at him for a long moment before his face screwed up into the most unbelievably sad expression. He ruffled Scorpius’ hair.

“Oh, Scorpius,” Thorne said. “Wanna talk with me after dinner? Maybe that’ll help.”

“Yeah, if we can get a moment of peace without someone else gossiping about me,” Scorpius muttered darkly. The conversations were muted but still occurring. 

“I can get most of the Ravenclaw table to shut up. And you can ask Albus to quiet down the…” Thorne paused, craning his neck. “Oh.” 

“What? What?”

“Albus is coming right here, right now,” Thorne said. “Uh… he doesn’t look particularly pleased?”

Al was, indeed, heading straight for the Ravenclaw table. There was a murderous look in his eye. His hair was all messy, his shirt wasn’t tucked in, and his tie was completely undone. Scorpius opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but Al just steamrolled past, his eyes focused on a fixed point on the horizon. He stormed out of the Great Hall.

“Shit,” Thorne said, rather eloquently.

Scorpius thought the world was truly, honestly, really losing its mind right now. He put his head in his hands, completely foregoing the rest of his breakfast. Thorne nudged his shoulder. “Hey, there’s no way this can get worse, right?” he said, though he didn’t look as though he believed his own words.

*

Scorpius’ hands won’t stop shaking by the time Advanced Transfiguration rolled around. It would be a miracle if he had managed to cast even the simplest of spells in the state he was in. Whenever he thought about Al, the shaking got worse. Scorpius knew he had fucked up in the worst way possible, but he had no idea how Al would react.

To his shock, Al wasn’t there. McGonagall called his name and surveyed Scorpius suspiciously, as if she knew he was partly responsible for Al’s absence. He wanted to hide for a century.

Something hit him in the ear. Wincing, Scorpius reached behind his head and discovered a folded up piece of paper. After checking to make sure McGonagall wasn’t staring him down any longer, he unfolded it.

_I know how to cheer you up. Meet me right before curfew?  
Max x_

Scorpius glanced up and locked eyes with his roommate. Thorne was smiling softly at the blond Ravenclaw, who almost began to cry with relief. Thank Merlin that he at least had someone to talk to. For any other situation, he’d go track down Al and spill his guts out to him. However, he wasn’t sure Al really wanted to hear about how worried he was that he’d ruined his friendship with Al because of his feelings… for Al. Scorpius let out a slightly hysterical half snort. The situation was ridiculous. Ridiculously painful.

_Sod off. You’re gross._  
(Yes, please. You’re the best.)  
Scorpy xx 

*

At two minutes to ten precisely, Thorne slipped back into Ravenclaw common room, where Scorpius sat anxiously drumming his fingers on a couch. Scorpius couldn’t contain the relieved grin he flashed at Thorne.

“Hey,” Scorpius whispered. “Why do I feel like we’re about to do something that breaks school rules?”

“‘Cause we are,” Maxwell replied. “Unless you don’t want to. I just know that a little mischief always makes me feel better.”

“Absolutely, I’m in,” Scorpius said immediately. “Where we off to?”

“Oh...Honeydukes,” Thorne said. Scorpius’ eyes nearly bulged out of his head.

“But it’s not a Hogsmeade weekend! It’s not even the weekend!”

“Keep your voice down, Scorp!” Thorne shushed him quickly. After casting a cursory glance around to make sure no one had overheard, Thorne continued speaking in a low whisper. “I know that.”

“So how are we gonna get there? You clearly didn’t think this through,” Scorpius huffed, crossing his arms. Thorne had gotten his hopes up for a second, but he had forgotten how idiotic his roommate could be sometimes. 

Thorne was just grinning at his friend, shaking his head in a bemused fashion. Scorpius narrowed his eyes. “Trust me, Scorp. I really did.”

Before long, they were on the seventh floor corridor. Thorne was pacing anxiously about, muttering quietly to himself. A door flickered into view after a few minutes. Scorpius gasped aloud.

“How’d you know how to do that?” he exclaimed.

“Oh, you knew about this?” Thorne said, shrugging his shoulders casually. “I saw Albus -- Al, sorry -- do it once. He didn’t see me. I tried to use it a few times, but I only figured out its secret last week or so, maybe?”

Scorpius almost went cross-eyed with confusion. How in the world did Al know about the special room? His mind was buzzing with questions, but primarily, he was indignant that Thorne hadn’t trusted him enough to ask for help.“I’ve been using it for months now! You should’ve just asked!”

“To be fair, we weren’t exactly friends months ago. Also, how was I supposed to know you knew how to use it?” Thorne retorted.

“That’s true, I guess. On both counts,” Scorpius said. 

The special room had shaped itself into a tiny square, only five meters by five meters. There was an exceptionally ugly rug in the center of the room. Thorne threw it aside, and it revealed a winding staircase that lead into only darkness.

“Uh, what did you ask it for?”

“A passage to Honeydukes,” Thorne said simply. Scorpius shrugged. He was beginning to learn to not ask questions of the room. It was weird and it seemed to transgress all magical boundaries in the most fascinating ways with no explanation. He wished there were textbooks on it so he could research this kind of magic further. He wasn’t sure how to ask the librarians for a book on magic-that-feels-illegal-but-isn’t without raising a few eyebrows, however. 

After walking for what felt like an hour, there was a loud crashing sound and Thorne swore loudly. Scorpius was hot on his heels and bounded ahead, before stubbing his toe on something incredibly dense.

“Fuck!” he cried, before grabbing his toe. He could hardly see his own foot; the only light was the dim flickering emitted by Thorne’s wand. It looked alright, but then again, all he could see was that he had a foot. Which was a great start. 

“Are we hear, d’you think?” Maxwell said. He rapped his knuckles against the wall, and heard a resounding hollow wooden sound.

“We better be. I’m hungry,” Scorpius said, wrinkling his nose. 

After ogling the end of the passageway desperately for a good five minutes, Scorpius whispered, “Alohomora.” A door became visible and clicked open. Thorne stared at him before smacking himself on the forehead.

“That was stupidly obvious. Why didn’t I think of that?” Maxwell groaned.

“Well, I’m the genius, after all,” Scorpius said haughtily. When Thorne fixed him with a look, his false bravado deflated instantly. Thorne grinned at him. 

“Oh, shut it, Malfoy,” he said in an equally pompous voice. 

Thorne opened the door gingerly; it swung open to reveal a back storage closet of Honeydukes. Scorpius could have screamed aloud, he was so ecstatic. He actually leaned over and hugged Thorne. Maxwell grumbled good-naturedly about Scorpius’ weird behavior. 

They set about to filling their robes with as much as candy as they could. Scorpius got five packs of Sugar Quills and many, many handfuls of Pepper Imps for Al. Thorne was busy gorging himself on an extra-sized chocolate bar. Scorpius made sure to leave enough Galleons for all the food they were taking; after all, he wasn’t a criminal!

It was late in the evening when they finally set about to trudging back to school. After one last mournful glance into the candy shop, Thorne swung the door shut behind them and lead the way home.

It was ten minutes before either of them spoke. “Hey, Scorpius?”

“Yeah?” he replied softly. 

“I have something… to tell you,” Thorne said. Scorpius could hear him cough uncomfortably into his arm.

“What’s up?” he said flippantly, though his palms were sweating. He hated it when people prefaced uncomfortable conversations with even more uncomfortable introductions. It just prolonged the awkwardness. He wiped his palms against his robes. 

“I was the reason why you were in the hospital wing three months ago.” Scorpius was not expected him to say that. His jaw fell open unbidden. “I don’t think you remember this, but I was bothering you about going to the game, right?”

Scorpius had nearly forgotten how to speak. It took all of his energy to croak out a “Right, yeah” in response.

“Yeah. But I don’t think you remembered what I asked you to do. I bewitched that Bludger to hit you. I was the reason why you got stuck there in the first place. I thought you’d remembered agreeing, but you looked so angry about it that I guessed not,” Maxwell said. They walked in silence for a few moments.

“Oh,” said Scorpius. He couldn’t think of a better answer. “Why’d you do it?” 

“You’re not mad at me?” Thorne sounded taken aback. To Scorpius’ surprise, he didn’t feel much of anything in particular. He wasn’t even particularly shocked that Thorne had done so in the first place. It was all quite confusing.

“I don’t know what I’m feeling right now, if I’m being honest,” Scorpius said truthfully.

“That’s… reasonable,” Thorne said. He cleared his throat, and with that sound, some of the tension evaporated from the atmosphere. They both became quiet once more, but it was no longer a weighted silence. 

Finally, after a few minutes, Scorpius spoke up again. “I don’t hate you, I’ve decided.”

Maxwell chuckled. “Well, that’s good.”

“I’m glad you did it.” Scorpius surprised himself with the words, but as he said them, he knew them to be true. He continued rambling. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have met Albus. And I wouldn’t be such good friends with you. Or Rose. I have all the friends in the world because of that little Bludger. That’s a funny thought, huh? I wonder what would’ve happened if you hadn’t done that.”

“Me, too,” said Thorne. Scorpius felt Thorne reach back to ruffle his hair. He shook off Thorne’s hand and punched him lightly in the side. 

After hearing Thorne’s confession, it only felt right to tell him the truth, too. Scorpius thought that it might take a weight off of his shoulders. After taking a few deep breaths, Scorpius said, “I’m gay, Thorne.”

“Oh,” said Thorne, echoing Scorpius from earlier. They both stopped in the darkness. “That’s nice, I guess? Congratulations?” His voice wavered, as though he was fumbling for words. “I’m not sure what to say here, but I still love you, mate.”

Scorpius smiled. The sentiment was very Thorne-esque. “Love you too.” Realizing how his words could be interpreted, Scorpius hastened to add, “Not… like that. Ew. Over my dead body.”

“I gotta second you on that one, Scorp. Ew is right,” Maxwell said, and who knew it was so easy to switch from serious to teasing? Scorpius felt a little warmness spreading through his chest. “So who’s the lucky guy?” Thorne probed. If there were more light, Scorpius knew he’d be able to see Maxwell wiggling his eyebrows. 

Scorpius swallowed. He’d anticipated this question, but he didn’t imagine how hard it would be to answer. He plucked up the courage eventually to stutter out Al’s name. “Oh, it’s uh--”

“Actually, nevermind. I think I know the answer to this question already,” Thorne cut him off, and in that moment, Scorpius was glad that Thorne knew him so well. 

There was one question still on Scorpius’ mind, though. Tentatively, he raised his voice once more. “Why… why did you bewitch that Bludger?”

“Um,” Thorne said. And then stopped. They walked in silence for nearly five minutes until Thorne had gathered his thoughts together. He spoke slowly and deliberately. “Al was always talking about the blond boy from Ravenclaw who looked so lonely.” Scorpius grumbled a little at the idea of Al taking pity on him. Thorne had chuckled a little at that, before carrying on. “He thought you were really funny the one time you got partnered for Potions in like… second year, maybe, but then you called him an ass and stomped on his foot. So I thought I’d just… take fate into my own hands, I guess.”

“Merlin. I don’t remember that one bit,” Scorpius said. There was a brief flickering in the back of his mind of a Potions project with an exceptionally difficult and arrogant Gryffindor boy, but the image of the obnoxious twelve year old was hard to imagine in tandem with the fifteen year old he knew today. “He was an ass, though.” 

“Yeah, a touch. But you still are, so,” Maxwell teased good-naturedly. Scorpius shoved him a bit roughly. “Ouch!”

“Sorry, mate,” Scorpius said.

It was only two or three more minutes until they were back in the special room. Scorpius paused for a moment before turning back to face Thorne.

"I just have one more question," he said. Thorne gazed at him expectantly, and Scorpius felt exposed, now that they could both see the other clearly. "How'd you know that the Bludger would make me and Al friends?

"I don't know. I... I can't explain it. I just," Thorne said, stumbling over his words. After collecting his thoughts for a minute, he continued. "You two seem to belong together, is all. I don't know how that worked so well as it did. It felt like someone else was egging me on to do so, or someone else planted the idea in my head. But it worked, didn't it?"

Scorpius was still fixated on the middle of Maxwell's sentence. _You two seem to belong together._ He pinked slightly. 

Maxwell put the exceptionally ugly rug before saying thank you to the room. Scorpius stood there a bit stiffly during that part. It felt weird to him, saying thank you to an inanimate object. But he didn’t question Thorne at all.

They made sure to stay quiet all the way back to Ravenclaw Tower. Maxwell effortlessly answered the eagle’s riddle, and they entered the common room.

Scorpius wasn’t sure who initiated it, but all of a sudden, they were hugging. It was comforting. He melted into the embrace slightly. After a few moments, Maxwell released his iron-tight grip on his roommate.

“Sorry. That didn’t make you uncomfortable, did it? It just… felt right. After all we talked about,” he said, trailing off awkwardly occasionally. Scorpius just grinned at his mate. 

“No, it was nice. It was good, honest.” Thorne looked relieved.

“Well, I’m off to bed, Scorp!” Thorne walked into the dormitory and collapsed on his bed. Before closing his bed-curtains, he turned to Scorpius. “Let’s do that again sometime, shall we?”

“Definitely,” Scorpius said, smiling from ear to ear. He fell asleep quickly that night, with no nightmares to wake him for the first time in a long time.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Al was being ridiculous all of a sudden, and Scorpius had no idea when or why he was being so possessive, but he wanted him to cut it out. For Merlin’s sake, he was allowed to have other friends, wasn’t he?
> 
> There was something nagging him in the back of his mind that said there was something more to Al’s behavior that he just wasn’t getting, but he pushed it aside. He didn’t want to think about Al anymore right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're so close to the end it's CRAZY! Buckle your seatbelts, kids, bc shit's about to get REAL.

The next morning, Al came right up to Scorpius at breakfast. He didn’t sit in any of the empty chairs surrounding the Ravenclaw boy; rather, he chose to stand and to glower down at his friend, who had stopped eating his jam and toast because _Al was talking to him again_?

It was almost as if Al could read his mind. “I’m not here to chat,” he said. It probably was supposed to be more of a sneer, but Scorpius knew Al like the back of his hand, and he knew that Al sneering at anyone he liked wasn’t in the realm of possibility. Scorpius felt his shoulders relax. There was a way to reverse this… whatever this is. Al still liked him. 

The thing was, he still didn’t know why Al was upset with him. Scorpius had ideas that it had something to do with Rose, but the irrational, emotional part of him was whispering that it was because he knew Scorpius liked him. Just thinking along those lines made Scorpius’ breath hitch.

For a moment, he saw Al’s eyes soften. They hardened just as quickly. “I can’t believe you, Scorpius,” he said. Despite the fact that he was speaking in low tones, Scorpius could see in his peripheral vision that they were attracting quite a few stares. He tried to not let it get to him.

“I thought it was bad enough that you were macking on my cousin without telling me, without warning me or anything,” Al hissed, and Scorpius’ eyes widened. _Oh_. It was what he had thought all along, but hearing Al say it aloud was a whole other matter. Scorpius squirmed in his chair. _How do I politely interrupt you to tell you that I snogged her because of you?_ “But I have the map.” 

“The… map?” Scorpius said, his voice not much louder than a timid whisper. 

“Marauder’s map. You know the one,” Al said. “What were you doing skulking around with bloody Thorne? I thought you two weren’t even friends. Next thing I know, you’re on top of each other.”

Alright, Al was starting to be plain unfair. “You’re not in charge of who I hang out with, you know,” Scorpius said. Perhaps it was the wrong thing to say, as Al started violently. He regained his composure almost immediately.

“Maybe not, but you seem to be bouncing from person to person frequently,” Al said viciously. They both knew that he had gone a little too far with that assertion, but Al was too stubborn to back down from it, and Scorpius was too exhausted with Al’s bullshit to let it go. 

Scorpius was seething. “For your information, Thorne and I were just hugging. And I didn’t want to kiss Rose.” Al’s expression changed, just for a moment, into something that resembled hope. Scorpius narrowed his eyes at his friend. “You know, I wanted to tell you what was upsetting me on my own terms, at my own pace, because we’re best friends and I thought you understood that I lo-like you more than anyone else, trust you more than anyone else in this room.” Scorpius cringed internally, realizing just how close he’d gotten to admitting something that was far too volatile and raw to say in the middle of the Great Hall at breakfast. “Best friends are supposed to respect each other’s privacy.”

Al was having a difficult time looking at Scorpius. “Scorp, I-”

“No,” Scorpius said. He was trembling now, but whether it was due to anger or to sadness, he wasn’t sure. He squared his shoulders. “You don’t get to call me Scorp right now. Not when you’re like this.”

With all of the energy he could muster, he collected his plate and his breakfast in his arms. Al continued to stand there looking stricken. Scorpius could see Rose approaching them, her worry written across her face.

“Find me when you want to act like my best friend again,” Scorpius spat. With that, he turned around and walked quickly out of the Great Hall.

He ducked into an empty classroom off of the second corridor, feeling the hot tears begin to slide down his face. Scorpius covered his face with his hands, sobbing so hard that his chest hurt and his throat burned. It had hurt to hear Al speaking like that. It had hurt even more to tell him off, but he knew it was the right thing to do. 

Al was being ridiculous all of a sudden, and Scorpius had no idea when or why he was being so possessive, but he wanted him to cut it out. For Merlin’s sake, he was allowed to have other friends, wasn’t he?

There was something nagging him in the back of his mind that said there was something more to Al’s behavior that he just wasn’t getting, but he pushed it aside. He didn’t want to think about Al anymore right now.

*

During Potions, Scorpius called Rose over to be his partner and to sit next to him before Al even enters the classroom. When Al walked in, his mouth drooped at the corners, and Scorpius wished that he didn’t know the reason why. 

During Advanced Transfiguration, Al wasn’t there. One of his Gryffindor buddies informed the professor that Al was in the hospital wing because he fell down the stairs. Scorpius had to mentally restrain himself from leaping up out of the seat to Al’s aid. 

In the evening, Rose caught him while he’s in the middle of transcribing his notes from Advanced Transfiguration for Al. It was the least he can do, and he knew it’s stupid to be worrying about Al right now, but he was still his best friend.

“Even though he’s a twat,” he muttered aloud. Rose flashed him a small smile from beside him, which Scorpius gladly returns.

“He is, isn’t he?” Rose said, gently. Scorpius loved that Rose knew what he was talking about without asking, but she didn’t love the unrestrained pity she was sending his way. She looked at Scorpius like he was going to break in two any minute now. Scorpius wriggled about in his chair uncomfortably under her gaze.

“Just a bit,” Scorpius said. 

“Have you told him yet?” Rose asked.

“That he’s a twat?” Scorpius quipped. Rose stifled a snigger.

“No, that you… you know,” she said. Scorpius rolled his eyes at her lack of discretion, ignoring the way his heart rate spiked at the barest mention of his feelings. He quickly glanced around the common room to make sure no one was listening before responding.

“No, I was going to do that today, but clearly, I cannot anymore,” Scorpius said, and despite himself, despite everything that went to shit today, he was in giggles. Rose raised a bemused eyebrow at her friend.

Both of their heads snapped towards the Ravenclaw common room door when muffled shouting was heard. It sounded as though someone was attempting to break down the common room door with a battering ram. “What in the world?” muttered a sixth-year prefect. Rose shushed everyone, and the words in the exchange became more distinct.

“Would you _let me in?_ ” said one voice.

“You’re not a Ravenclaw,” said someone who was presumably of Ravenclaw house.

“What if I answer the riddle?” said the not-Ravenclaw. 

“Uh,” the other voice said. There was a loud knocking sound, which Scorpius assumed was the eagle getting really excited to tell a riddle. “Well, fine. You’ve gotten the eagle all excited now. Can’t wait for you to disappoint it, you asshat.”

Outside the door was quiet for a few moments. Everyone in the common room held their breaths. After what felt like forever, the door swung open.

In stepped… Al. Scorpius felt his heart stop and start up again.

Everyone’s heads were focused on the intruder Gryffindor. A gaggle of first-years were snickering amongst themselves and pointing rather rudely. The seventh year with whom Al had entered was shaking his head at Scorpius in an apologetic manner. Most of Ravenclaw had gotten wind of what occurred this morning, and, in what was more typical behavior of Slytherin but still much appreciated by Scorpius, closed ranks to defend their own. Even though he didn’t really need defending from Al.

“Uh, hi,” Al said. One third year let out a rather impressively loud giggle. Rose turned her entire body to glare at them until they fell silent. “I wanted to…”

“Why don’t we take this into the dorm!” Scorpius exclaimed, his question sounding far more like a command than a request. The room deflated slightly at the prospect of being denied gossip, but as Scorpius shut the door to the boys’ dormitory, people seemed to have returned to their homework readily enough. They sat down on Scorpius’ bed, Al keeping his distance.

“So, what were you saying?” Scorpius asked, looking down at his clenched hands. He took a deep breath; Al was still his best friend, even if he was a massive idiot. _A massive idiot that you have a crush on,_ sang a little voice at the back of his head. He tried desperately to squash it down.

“I wanted to… apologize,” Al said awkwardly. He had his hands behind his back. “I didn’t realize how much of a, well, a dick I was being to you. I was really selfish, and stupid, and I was worried about you so when you were hanging out with everyone but me I took it the wrong way and… yeah.” His bright green eyes were trained on the the edge of Scorpius’ blanket. 

“Okay,” Scorpius said simply. Al looked up at him with a desperately hopeful expression in his eyes. “I do forgive you.” Scorpius took another deep breath. As much as it was killing him to admit, he had to do this. He had to admit what was going on to Al. It was due time, anyway. And he trusted the Gryffindor boy.

Still, it took quite a few minutes before Scorpius had scraped together the courage to begin speaking. Al looked at him patiently, and he didn’t try to talk over Scorpius before the Ravenclaw boy was ready.

Merlin, Scorpius loved him. Just thinking along those lines made his heart race.

“I didn’t… I kept my distance from you because I discovered… something and I didn’t want to freak you out. Really, it freaked me out, really badly, and I didn’t want… you to hate me, or something like that,” Scorpius said, trailing off at the end of his sentences. “And I wanted to make sure I was right before I said anything to you.”

“You know you can tell me anything, Scorpius,” Al said.

“You’re probably the fifteenth person to say that to me,” Scorpius said. The blond Ravenclaw kneaded his hands into the bed, willing himself to say the words that scared him to his core. Al was looking at him with a soft, expectant expression. Eventually, his best friend scooted over and gently rested one hand on top of Scorpius’.

“Al, I’m gay,” Scorpius finally said, turning away so he wouldn’t have to see his friend’s reaction.

There was a slight pause, in which Scorpius imagined all the terrible ways this conversation could go, most of them ending with Al beating him up so badly that he needed to go to St. Mungo’s.

“Me too, you know,” Al said. Scorpius turned his head abruptly back to his friend and found himself staring with a slack jaw. He had thought about this conversation almost a million times, explored every single path it could take. Never had he ever considered the possibility that Al might like boys too. Scorpius was at a loss for words. “Not gay, er, bisexual rather. But same sentiment.” 

“Oh,” Scorpius said. He found himself staring at the freckles splattered across Al’s nose and cheeks. _Oh indeed,_ said the rather self-righteous voice at the back of his head. “That’s good.” He winced internally, realizing the connotation of his words a touch too late.

“Yeah, I guess so,” said Al, smiling. Scorpius wanted to touch his dimple, but he restrained himself. Al didn’t try to remove his hand from Scorpius’.

“I kissed Rose because I wanted to make sure that there was no way I could ever like girls, you know, like ever. And I thought that she would be like… the perfect girl, yeah? So just on a whim I… leaned over and did it. I hated it. It was awful,” Scorpius said, shuddering as he recounted the experience. Al was chuckling at him. “And then Thorne saw how upset I was when you were ignoring me, so he took me out to Honeydukes in the middle of the night - long story - and I told him I was gay and he was totally cool with it.” 

“Oh, speaking of Honeydukes. I got you something,” Al said. “As an apology.” He reached behind his back and gave Scorpius a simply decorated box of twenty-four Sugar Quills. Scorpius gasped.

“Honest, Al, you didn’t need to do that,” Scorpius said, already lifting the cover off of the box. 

“I just wanted to say sorry. Actually, for two things now. I already said what the first was. But I didn’t mean to force you to come out to me. I know that was definitely really hard. I just did it too, after all,” Al chuckled. “Yeah. I didn’t… I didn’t know that you liked guys, like that, and I just assumed that whatever it was, you were only withholding it because… oh, I don’t know. Merlin, I’m an idiot, Scorp. Do you forgive me?”

“Absolutely,” Scorpius said. The two best friends grinned at each other. With a stuttering heartbeat, Scorpius realized that Al still hadn’t removed his hand.

Maybe everything was going to be okay, after all. 

*  
_Dear Dad,_

_I’ve missed you since I’ve come back from Christmas break. I’m writing to say that I have something really important to tell you, but I can’t possibly say it in a letter. It’s not the life-threatening kind of serious. More just like… deep discussion kind of serious. I’ll bring it up over Easter break, I just wanted you to know that I’m alright._

_Al and I stopped our fight. Neither of us was actually right; we were both just being stupid. He bought me Sugar Quills, so automatically everything has to be okay (That’s a joke!)._

_I hope everything’s okay in the Manor. I can’t wait to see you! Only a few more months, yeah?_

_Love you with all my heart,  
Scorpius_

*

Scorpius sat down, chest heaving after sending the letter. He knew there was no way his father could know immediately what was wrong, but sending the letter was a big deal on its own. Every day, his sexuality became more and more real. It was an actual thing that he acknowledged.

It was still really scary on some days. But on others, it was almost… okay. Especially considering that Al liked boys, too. Scorpius felt like he was allowed to look at the other boy now. Now that he wouldn’t be grossed out by the idea of boys having feelings for him.

No, he’d be grossed out because it was Scorpius. Not because of his gender. It didn’t really help much. That realization made Scorpius deflate slightly every time. Al was still his best friend, who had nothing but friendly feelings for Scorpius. His attraction to boys didn’t change a thing.

Eventually, he forced himself to stand up and to stretch. He must’ve sat there for over an hour. His limbs had gone all stiff and there was a funny tingling sensation in his calf muscles.

Just as he was turning to leave, an owl crashed directly into his cheek. Scorpius squeaked, a touch surprised, before recognizing Al’s owl that he absolutely refused to keep in the Owlery and preferred to keep smuggled in the Gryffindor dormitory.

_S,_

_Come to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?_

_Al xx_

Scorpius smiled at the letter. He Summoned a quill and scribbled on the reverse of the note,

_Albus Severus Potter,_

_Absolutely n…_

_yes._  
How could I refuse tradition?  
Scorp xx 

The tiny owl took off the moment Scorpius lifted his quill from the paper, presumably to find wherever Al was in the school. 

On his way back to the common room, Scorpius realized that he hadn’t chewed through the quill in his hand and he’d had it for over a week. His shoulders felt relaxed for the first time in years. Things were okay again.

*

“Al, is this payback for the time I sent you that Howler?” Scorpius moaned, shivering in the blistering wind. It was near the end of April, but Scottish spring still sometimes felt like the dead of winter. He regretted only bringing his sweater. 

“What? No!” Al exclaimed, leading them down a pathway towards a brightly colored, pastel tea shop emblazoned with the words Madam Puddifoot’s Teashop in an elaborate cursive. “I’m honestly just a touch curious as to what goes on in there.”

They hovered outside the doorway. Scorpius rolled his eyes. “Yeah, ‘cause there’s no way we could ever convince anyone to drag us in there.”

“Speak for yourself, Scorp. I actually have a way with the ladies and the men,” Al joked, puffing out his chest slightly.

Scorpius felt a funny twinge in his stomach. “Hmph. If you say so.”

“Hey now. Not that I’d want to go anywhere with anyone but you.” Before Scorpius could process what Al had said, however, the other boy was grabbing at his armand tugging him towards the storefront. “C’mon, it’ll be fun!”

They pushed open the door into the shop. A tiny bell tinkled, and all of Scorpius’ senses were attacked with the smell of magically-enhanced roses. It made him sneeze. There were ribbons tying up the curtains, bright pink loveseats, and cozily arranged tables for two. He and Al sat down at one such table. A Ravenclaw couple openly stared, and Scorpius shifted around a little in his seat under their scrutinizing gaze.

Al ordered a slice of carrot cake from a uniformed blond witch who only seemed able to flash smiles and giggle. Scorpius was trying so hard to avoid the eyes of everyone else that he didn’t even notice the server, but somehow, a slice of lemon cake was delivered to him regardless. Al whispered something about innate magic, how somehow the shop had known Scorpius’ exact favorite dessert, but he was grinning.

“Albus Severus,” he said, pretending to be annoyed, “I hate you.” A wave of fondness crashed over him, causing his heart to stutter for a moment.

“Nah, you don’t,” Al responded flippantly before smirking at Scorpius. Scorpius felt his stomach do something internal organs shouldn’t be able to do. It seemed to get a touch hotter inside the teashop with every minute that passed by.

They talked easily and about everything. Occasionally, someone would elbow someone else and lean over dramatically to whisper about the two boys who were on a date and - Merlin - were they from Slytherin and Gryffindor? Hold on a moment, was that… a Malfoy and a Potter?

Funnily enough, Scorpius minded less and less as time passed. It was nice, stealing some of Al’s crumbs and yelling at him jokingly about things that don’t matter. It felt so… natural. Like how things were supposed to be.

In the back of his head, Scorpius heard Maxwell say, You two belong together.

“And, well, you know I’ve a thing for blondes,” Al said, and Scorpius came back from his silly, hopeless daydreams. 

“Sorry, what was that?” Scorpius asked, and then yawned. He felt suddenly exhausted. It must’ve been the heat within the shop. The condensation was thick on the windows, and despite the fact that he’d removed his sweater already, he still felt boiling. He rolled up his sleeves before resting his arms flat on the table, tapping his fingers absently against the wood.

Al was staring at the middle of the table. “Uh, nothing,” he said. “I was just saying stuff to get your attention, ‘cuz you were tuned out. You missed it when I declared I was hosting an orgy next Saturday.” Scorpius almost believed him, if not for Al’s refusal to make eye contact. Al cleared his throat and sat up suddenly. “Hey, wanna go back to the castle? I’m getting a bit tired of people staring.”

Scorpius craned his neck away from his best friend. A small crowd had gathered outside the shop, but their figures were blurred by the immense amount of fog on the windows. Was that… James Potter, coming through the doorway? 

“Sod off, James,” Al said to his brother, elbowing him in the side. James just snickered.

“Love you, little bro. Thought I’d inspire some confidence in you, yeah?” James said, in a tone that suggested at something that Scorpius couldn’t quite place. “Seems you don’t need it, though.”

“Confidence for what?” Scorpius asked, feeling entirely out of the loop. The two Potter brothers glanced at him for a moment before Al dropped his gaze. James’ forehead wrinkled.

“Maybe you still need confidence, Ally,” James said.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Al mumbled, still looking at his shoes. 

“Hello?” Scorpius asked, waving his arms. “I’m still here.”

The Potter boys ignored him and continued to confide in low tones to each other. Al had a funny look on his face, and James was smiling, but not in the usual way. Not like he was bragging about something, or teasing Al. It looked soft, somehow. Something Scorpius didn’t often see on James’ face. 

“I’ll try to contain the crowds,” James said. “And Scorpius?”

“Yeah?” Scorpius said, surprised that James was even acknowledging him. His interactions with the elder Potter boy were mostly contained to quips and jokes of which Scorpius was the butt. James’ eyes were twinkling at him.

“Use your brain for once in your life, wouldya?” James said, a teasing tone in his voice. For whatever reason, it didn’t feel like a real joke to Scorpius. There was something more to it. 

“Shut up,” Al hissed at his brother. James ignored him, staring pointedly at Scorpius.

“Yessir,” Scorpius said, not entirely sure what he was agreeing to. And, because he was stupid, he saluted. James stifled a laugh. 

“Not sure what you see in him,” James whispered to Al. 

“Al thinks I’m a great friend!” Scorpius chirped, not noticing how Al went entirely red.

“Sure he does,” James replied, grinning so widely that his dimples popped from his cheeks. Al kicked his brother so hard James swore filthily, clutching at his leg and moaning in pain. It was exceptionally difficult for everyone who had witnessed to not laugh at the sight of the Potter sibling dynamics. Scorpius, however, wasn’t laughing. He was tapping his finger against his chin, deep in thought. Something rather mysterious was going on, and, in true Ravenclaw fashion, Scorpius was going to get to the bottom of it.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having Al there made him feel wonderfully funny in the best way possible. Like the Hogwarts Express ran him over and was going in reverse to do it again.
> 
> Well, maybe not exactly like that.

Something was unmistakably different. Scorpius felt undeniably dense for a Ravenclaw. Ever since James had made those off-hand comments to him in Hogsmeade, he’d been wracking his brains to try to figure out what in the world he was referencing.

Problem was, he was coming up with absolutely nothing. Zilch. Nada. 

“Any reason why you’re muttering synonyms for the word zero?” Al hummed, gently poking Scorpius. The blond Ravenclaw felt his cheeks color.

“That’s the one I was missing,” he mumbled. There was one major flaw in this plan of his. It was nearly impossible to get any thinking done with Al glued to his side. Not that he minded. At all. Having Al there made him feel wonderfully funny in the best way possible. Like the Hogwarts Express ran him over and was going in reverse to do it again.

Well, maybe not exactly like that.

Scorpius leaned his head on his hand and stared out the window, watching the scenery rush past. They were on their way home for Easter vacation, and Scorpius would be staying at Al’s for a few days, but first, he had to get home to the Manor and say hi to his dad.

His heart twisted. “I miss my dad,” he whispered aloud. Al looked over at him.

“Yeah, I bet you do,” Al said, reaching over to ruffle Scorpius’ hair. Scorpius smiled but didn’t pull his head away like he normally did. Al’s roughhousing was comforting. Soothed his stomach, which was currently attempting to replicate a difficult ballet dance whilst on stilts.

He had no idea how he was going to tell Draco that he was gay. In fact, Scorpius had no idea what his father would even say in response. He knew the importance of ‘producing a suitable heir,’ as his grandfather prattled on about the few times Scorpius went to visit, but he knew his father had changed, too. It was definite that Draco’s ideals had changed over the years, but to what extent?

His stomach twisted again. Scorpius shut his eyes. He wished his mother were still here. Astoria would know exactly what to say to him, how to make him feel less nervous. Not that his dad was a terrible human being, anyway. He just hadn’t been raised in a family where they showed heaps of love and affection. Scorpius knew his father loved him, but Draco was always a touch more distant than Astoria.

“Hey, Scorp,” Al said. “Get out of your head and play a game of chess with me, would you?”

Like Al. Al always knew exactly what to do to cheer Scorpius up, even without Scorpius telling him that he was upset in the first place. Scorpius smiled at his best friend and sat up slightly. The game was on. 

*

Before Scorpius felt even half-ready, they were pulling into the station, Al was fetching his trunk for him, and Scorpius was certain that he’d have to hit the bathroom before the train finished rolling to a stop. He could see his father from his window, though Draco had yet to spot him. His father stood alone, slightly apart from the other families. 

“Be right back,” Scorpius said, before hurrying into the bathroom compartment. He sat down in front of the toilet, feeling his stomach threaten a mutiny. He put his hands on either side of the bowl to stabilize himself, attempting to hold back a shudder of disgust at being so intimate with the nasty toilet.

After some time, he decided that he wouldn’t puke (thankfully) and stood up slowly before looking at himself in the tiny mirror. His hair was a little messier than usual, but nothing out of the ordinary. He had bags under his eyes, and he looked a lot older. Jagged, almost. His jawline was sharper. His cheekbones stuck out more than they used to. Or did they always do that?

Merlin, he was seeing things. Stress was making him imagine things that weren’t there. He felt the absurd urge to grab his trunk and start chewing on a writing quill again. Just like the beginning of fifth year all over again.

Finally, he pushed on the door. Al was dutifully waiting for him outside with his trunk. His expression was pinched, but he stayed quiet. 

They stepped off together, walking side-by-side as they located their respective family members. Draco’s face lit up upon seeing his son. There was a moment where the two appraised each other before Scorpius threw himself into his dad’s arms. Draco hugged his son tightly. It spoke volumes without words.

“I know you mentioned having something to say to me, something important,” Draco said, looking at his son with an indescribable expression on his face. Scorpius found that it was becoming harder and harder to decipher his friends’ and father’s expressions. “But you still have time to say goodbye to Albus. No need to rush.”

“I just missed you, is all,” Scorpius said. Just under six months ago, he would’ve flamed with embarrassment at the idea of saying those words to his father in public. But things were different now. Things were starting to become okay, but at the same time, they were starting to hang in the balance. There were so many things to say that could have such disastrous consequences. It hurt his brain to even consider all the ways things could go wrong from now until the end of Easter break. Scorpius swallowed.

“I missed you dearly, Scorpius,” his father said. Scorpius desperately tried to get his neck to relax.

Al grinned at him as he approached the Potters. His family was clamoring loudly behind him. James was roughhousing with Hugo; Rose was standing with her arms crossed as Lily laughed and danced wildly. One member of the Granger-Weasley-Potters was definitely attempting to belt a wizarding Christmas carol, despite the fact that it was extraordinarily seasonally inappropriate. 

“Bye, Al!” he chirped, trying to force himself to feel upbeat. To his surprise, Al leaned forward and wrapped him in a hug.

“Everything’s going to be alright,” Al said quietly in Scorpius’ ear. “Whatever’s worrying you, it’ll be okay.” Scorpius practically melted in his best friend’s arms. A little ball of emotion started to build in his throat, and he found himself unable to speak.

His father was watching him carefully, his arms folded. The ball constricted his throat further. Desperately trying to compose himself, Scorpius blinked rapidly and drew back from Al.

“Wish me luck, yeah?” He tried to sound sauve and confident, but it ended up coming out breathier than he intended. Al touched his shoulder for a fleeting moment, before Draco called out Scorpius’ name.

“Luck!” Al said, smiling at his friend as the blond-haired boy reluctantly shuffled back to his father. His fingers were shaking.

“Hey, I know I said no rush, but I do want to get home eventually, Scorpius!” his father called. Scorpius felt a wobbly grin emerge on his face.

“I’m welcome at yours anytime, yeah?” Scorpius said quietly, so quietly his words were nearly carried off by the wind.

“Always,” Al said. 

*

It was right in the middle of his first dinner home that Scorpius finally had the conversation he’d been dreading with his father. They had talked about simple subjects, like how school had been, what Scorpius had been up to, what was interesting in his courses. Draco didn’t push, and Scorpius tried desperately to quell his nerves.

His father was right in the middle of detailing to Scorpius a new discovery he had made involving the alchemical manuscripts Al’s father had lended to him, a piece of roast three-quarter of the way to his mouth, when Scorpius blurted out, “Dad, I’m gay.”

This was absolutely not how he had intended to announce his secret. Scorpius was horrified by the way his mouth had acted of its own accord. He had envisioned a dramatic scene where they sat beside the fire, both in armchairs, and the light making shadows on their faces. He would tell his father in low tones about how sorry he was to disappoint him. After that, his imagination had stopped short. It was impossible for him to picture what his father could say in response. 

Draco stared at Scorpius from across the table, a piece of roast that was now forgotten still dangling on the end of his fork. Against his better wishes, Scorpius flinched at the intensity of the gaze. When he opened his eyes again, his father had completely abandoned his dinner and was standing up.

Scorpius sat there, watching his father’s motions carefully. Before he could open his mouth again, his father was hugging him. Draco’s arms were shaking slightly.

“Scorpius, you know I’ve loved you since the day you were born. I loved you the moment I met you, and I can’t think of a single thing that would make me stop loving you,” Draco whispered hoarsely to his son. Scorpius closed his eyes and felt a tear fall down his cheek.

“Thank… thank you, Dad,” Scorpius said in response. Draco released his son and the two Malfoy men looked at each other for a long moment before his father returned to his seat, back to his roast.

They sat there, neither quite sure how to continue the conversation after its sudden and serious turn. After a moment, Draco cleared his throat and said, “Am I supposed to ask you about, er, guys you might be interested in now? Is that something that fathers do?”

“Dad, I think I’m going to die if you ask me about who I’m interested in,” Scorpius said. He felt his cheeks beginning to heat up at the mere indirect notion of talking about boys at the dinner table. An image of him and his father avidly discussing Al’s physique and personality flitted across his brain unbidden and he physically recoiled from his imagination.

“That’s quite fine with me,” Draco said. “I think I second your… slightly hyperbolic notion. Plus, I haven’t a clue who you would be interested in anyway.” Scorpius shot his dad a glare, and Draco hastened to add “Theoretically. Regardless, they’re -- he’s -- not good enough for you.” There was a teasing tone to his father’s voice, but Scorpius groaned at his father’s embarrassing antics regardless.

“Dad,” he gritted out. Draco held up his hands in mock-surrender. 

Of course, Scorpius missed the way his father’s eyes twinkled knowingly when Scorpius continued the conversation by changing the subject to his and Al’s adventures in Potioneering, and wasn’t Al just brilliant at Healing Potions? 

*

It was the day after Easter, and Draco and Scorpius were in front of the Manor fireplace once more, again about to depart for the Burrow. To see Al, finally. Scorpius’ heart began to race despite himself. 

Draco put a hand on Scorpius’ shoulder, and they were off. Scorpius was more out of his mind with uncontrollable and irrational nerves than he’d ever been before in his life (yes, counting the time he didn’t sleep at all before his third-year Charms exam, or the first time he went to the Potters). He was worried about outing his feelings about Al, about outing himself to anyone other than his dad and Albus... he was just a bundle of nerves. And, of course, because he was Scorpius, he just had to trip and fall face-forward on the nice (and slightly sooty) carpet.

There was a strangled sound from above, which sounded awfully similar to his father. He chose to ignore it and his impending mortification at the hands of his father and the entire Potter family by just laying down for a moment, fingers hooked into the carpet.

“Scorpius,” his father said, gently nudging his shoulder. His voice was quivering with barely restrained mirth. “You’re making a scene.”

Someone who sounded suspiciously like Al let out a very small giggle. Finally, there was a loud letting-loose of laughter. Scorpius sat up, not even bothering to feel indignant, as he took in the entire Potter-Weasley crowd. He muttered, “I’m always making a scene.”

“You Malfoys have a flair for the dramatic, yeah?” Harry called out, causing everyone to burst out laughing once more. Scorpius shot Albus a betrayed look, who proceeded to adopt the expression of an exceptionally constipated and sad old man. Needless to say, no one stopped laughing for quite some time, including Draco.

After a few minutes of easy conversation, Draco pulled Scorpius in for a hug. They’d been doing this more frequently, ever since the conversation they’d had a few nights ago. It made Scorpius feel like he was learning how to breathe every time his father held him close. His shoulders slumped, the tension releasing from them.

“I love you, Scorpius,” Draco murmured. Scorpius squeezed tighter to let his father that he felt the same. The two Malfoy men disentangled and, with an especially over-the-top flourish just for the Potters, Draco Floo’ed back to the Manor. 

James came over and clapped Scorpius heartily on the back. Scorpius fumed slightly, remembering how dismal his attempts had been at figuring out the secret riddle that James had only hinted at, and in the most infuriating manner possible.

“Mate, I’m worried about the state of your teeth,” Al quipped. “First you’re always chewing on quills, you’re eating sugar quills constantly, and now you’re grinding them? You really need to see a dentist or something.”

“What’s a dentist?” Scorpius asked. “Do they hurt?”

“Well, I’ve only been to my mum whenever my teeth are bothering me, and she…” Al hesitated. “She’s great!”

“Yeah, great at hurting your gums,” James smirked. After seeing the horrified look on Scorpius’ face, he hastened to amend himself, adding “but it’s really good for you and I bet she’d be really nice to you!”

“There’s no way I’m having your mum look at my teeth for Merlin’s sake--”

“MUM!” Al hollered. “Scorpius has never had his teeth looked at in his life!”

Scorpius knew that there were Anti-Apparition wards set up within in the Burrow, but he could’ve sworn that Ginny had to have Apparated in order to appear so fast. One minute Scorpius was only minorly burdened by an intensely embarrassing crush, next thing he knows said crush’s mum is instructing him to open his jaw further. 

She’d set him up in a reclining chair that was now serving as a makeshift teeth examination area. Scorpius lay there, wishing that Draco were here to see this and also wishing that he’d come pick him up. 

“Will you open up for me, Scorpius?” Ginny instructed. Merlin, this is fucking bizarre, Scorpius thought to himself, but he did as he was told. She was holding some metal object that he really didn’t feel like questioning, else it may be used in a way that might screw up his pearly whites. Al sat in the chair across, reading a Muggle romance novel. 

“Alright, I’m just gonna push and poke around in here,” she said. Scorpius lay perfectly still, even when she accidentally pushed a mirror-stick-thingy a little too far into his throat. “Huh. No gag reflex,” she remarked clinically. Al, who had turned the most incredible shade of red, looked at Scorpius with his mouth hanging open for a moment before hastily stuffing his nose back into the book.

After fifteen minutes, Al’s mum stopped prodding Scorpius’ mouth. “Well, you do have two cavities,” she said.

“I didn’t think wizards got those!” Scorpius exclaimed mournfully. He could hear Al stifling a snigger.

“But there’s a simple spell for that.” She waved her wand; something resembling a blue breeze swept through his mouth. It tasted like mint, but it didn’t hurt. 

He swiped his tongue around his teeth experimentally before turning his head to look at Al. Al had a funny expression on his face. His eyes were crossed, his cheeks were dusted pink, and his face was all wrinkly and confused and adorable.

“What does it mean to have a cavity?” he asked slowly, enunciating the unfamiliar Muggle word carefully.

“Oh, just holes in your teeth,” Ginny said, waving her hand dismissively. “Nothing bad, as long as people check on it occasionally. Scorpius felt terrified. _Holes in your teeth!? How was that even possible? ___

__“Run along, now!” Ginny said, and Scorpius and Al jumped out of their seats to run upstairs. Just before they entered Al’s room, however, Al stopped and looked at Scorpius tentatively._ _

__“Can I do something weird?”_ _

__“Yeah,” Scorpius said. Al gently placed his hand under Scorpius’ jaw and opening it._ _

__“How do you not have a gag reflex? That’s so interesting,” Al hummed, before tapping the bottom of Scorpius’ jaw and moving away. His eyes never strayed from the Ravenclaw’s throat. Scorpius felt the other boy watch as his Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed._ _

__“Anyway,” Al said. Scorpius found himself missing the sensation of Al’s fingers on his throat. He shivered at the thought of it. “Let’s go get ready!”_ _

__

__*_ _

__Three days after the holidays were over, and Scorpius was already feeling overwhelmed by all of the work ahead of him. He had to re-organize his notes from all of his classes, make study guides for each course, summarize, review the wand-work, understand the basic theories, delve into deeper applications of specific Charms--_ _

__“We get it, Scorpius,” Al said, chewing absently on a stray Sugar Quill that Draco had sent to Scorpius. Scorpius had nearly eaten every last one. “O.W.L.s suck. We know.” Al was laying on his back on Scorpius’ bed, a massive textbook in his hands. Scorpius was curled up by the headboard just a few feet away, surrounded by all of his revision notes._ _

__Despite his outward lackadaisical appearance, Al was just as stressed as Scorpius was, if not more so. Both of them were losing sleep about it._ _

__Not to the same degree as Rose, however. Sweet Rose, who pulled all-nighters even when it was exam season, appeared to be constantly on the verge of collapse. Her friends had set-up a sort of “Rose Watch” where they made sure one person was always by her side to catch her if she were to faint from exhaustion._ _

__Scorpius reached out for the box of Sugar Quills. He patted the box with a sinking feeling in his stomach. Not willing to believe it, he gave it an experimental shake before gasping aloud. “You bastard!” he shrieked at Al, sitting up abruptly. Al blinked at the Ravenclaw lazily._ _

__“What?” he said, clearly confused by Scorpius’ behavior. Scorpius glowered._ _

__“You ate all the Sugar Quills! My Sugar Quills! The nice ones that Dad bought for me! You know how much I love those things! They’re my favorite food ever. You arrogant, good-for-nothing, lying, cheating, dastardly, wicked, self-centered SCUM! You prat! You prick! You absolute tosser! How could you?” Scorpius cried. He was going to punch Al. All of his anger, frustration, and stress that he had been holding onto were all tumbling out… over a Sugar Quill. Scorpius flushed. Alright, maybe he was being a touch dramatic._ _

__Al had put his textbook down, but he continued to suck slowly on the Sugar Quill in his mouth before chewing it up entirely and swallowing. Scorpius watched, feeling betrayed both by his best friend and by his inability to look away from his best friend’s mouth._ _

__The Gryffindor looked at the blond boy sitting just two feet away. He picked up Scorpius’ papers and put them on the ground by the bed. Scorpius was speechless with his irrational fury. This was it. This was when he’d literally strangle Albus Severus for being an annoying dickhead._ _

__“You know,” Al said, looking at Scorpius expectantly. “You could still taste them. If you’d like.”_ _

__“No I couldn’t!” Scorpius exploded. He scooted closer to Al, almost sitting in his lap. He had balled his hands up into fists and was (very gently) punching Al’s back. “You idiot, I can’t taste something you’ve already--”_ _

__Al was grinning cheekily at him. “Yeah, you can.” And, to Scorpius’ horror and utmost delight, the Gryffindor had turned to face him. His lips were pouting out a little - or was that Scorpius’ imagination?_ _

__Scorpius’ heart ceased to beat. He put his hands down and felt dumbstruck. “Oh,” Scorpius said aloud. “Oh, I mean, well, there is, a way… that I could… you know…” he said awkwardly, suddenly shy. His mouth felt very dry. _Was Al saying what I think he’s saying?_ Scorpius thought desperately to himself. _ _

__The two boys looked at each other for a long moment. Scorpius started counting the freckles on Al’s left cheek. After looking at Al for so long, he felt like he forgot how to breathe._ _

__Scorpius wasn’t sure who scooted closer to whom. But he did remember that Al was the one who closed his eyes first and leaned his head forward. Scorpius copied his actions and desperately hoped that he wouldn’t bump Al’s forehead, or that they wouldn’t click teeth, or anything stupid like that._ _

__The moment their lips touched, Scorpius had to resist the urge to scream with relief. It felt like a million tiny stags were stampeding his stomach and were attempting to stab the inside of his throat. There wasn’t just one Hogwarts Express running him down. It felt like a hundred. He felt dizzy; his vision swam before his eyes._ _

__Just when Scorpius thought that he’d have to pause to gulp some air, Al leaned back slightly before touching their foreheads together._ _

__“So?” he said. Scorpius found that his mouth wasn’t working properly. His lips felt numb._ _

__“So, what?” he replied, after finding the ability to speak once more. Al just quirked an eyebrow at him. “Oh, yes!” Scorpius exclaimed. “The Sugar Quill tasted… excellent. I’d love to have more, more frequently, and by more frequently I mean like, all the time. And officially.”_ _

__Al just smiled, before raising his hand and tucking one of Scorpius’ stray blond curls behind his ear._ _

__“This something we can do… all the time now,” Scorpius whispered. Al nodded eagerly. “Like, constantly.”_ _

__“Well, not constantly constantly. I think your roommates might get a little annoyed with me if we’re constantly glued to each other,” the Gryffindor joked._ _

__“Aren’t we always glued to each other, though?” Scorpius asked._ _

__“Well, now that we’d be… you know,” Al said, turning sheepish in Scorpius’ arms. “Kissing.” Scorpius grinned wickedly at how soft Al’s voice had gone with the last word._ _

__Scorpius touched Al’s freckles with his index finger, tracing lines on hsi cheek. “What are you doing?” Al asked, but his voice sounded more like a breathless whisper._ _

__“It’s Scorpius, see?” the Ravenclaw said. Al took his hand and gently kissed the knuckles before lacing their fingers together._ _

__“You’ll have to show me sometime,” he said. “From the Astronomy Tower.”_ _

__“It’s a date,” Scorpius added. The two boys grinned at each other, before bursting into helpless peals of laughter._ _

__*_ _

__It was the first week of the summer holiday, and Ginny Weasley had wrangled her youngest son into the famed “dentist chair” once more to look at his teeth._ _

__“Muggles are really quite something,” she said to Al. “Isn’t it weird that most wizards don’t do this?”_ _

__“I wish all wizards wouldn’t do this, but apparently, the Potters missed the memo,” Al grumbled under his breath. His mum just laughed and continued to take a look around._ _

__“Al, it’s part of your health,” his father reminded him from his chair. He sipped his tea slowly, reading an older copy of the Daily Prophet. “Did you hear this? Someone released an Occamy in London. Some magizoologist nearly died trying to wrangle it.”_ _

__“Some people,” scoffed Ginny. She opened her son’s mouth carefully before actually gasping aloud. “Al!” she scolded._ _

__“What?” he said, twisting to face her._ _

__“How do you have so many cavities? That’s got to be at least four, maybe five!” she said. Al turned pink and muttered something unintelligible. “You’ve got to speak up, hun.”_ _

__“I said I’ve got so many cavities so Scorp would kiss me!” Al yelled._ _

__Harry, in the most elegant fashion, spit out his boiling tea onto his lap. Ginny stared down at her son. James and Lily started cheering wildly for their brother._ _

__“C’mon, Dad! They were meant for each other!” called Lily._ _

__“Like Scorp and Sugar Quills!” added James._ _

__“Or Albus and Scorpius and Sugar Quills,” said Harry, smiling fondly at his son._ _

__“Monogamy’s outdated, anyway,” Ginny quipped, beaming. She turned to her husband. “Harry, how do you feel about an open relationship?”_ _

__“You know I only have eyes for you, Gin,” Harry said. James and Lily proceeded to make loud gagging sounds at their parents’ antics._ _

__“We’re proud of you, Albus,” Harry said. Ginny nodded. Albus smiled up at his family from his awkward reclined position in the dentist’s chair. “Though I don’t understand what cavities have anything to do with Scorpius Malfoy.”_ _

__“It’s a long story,” Al said. “Should I start from the top?”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is it! Thank you guys for all your support throughout my first work. It's been so fun writing these two with you all by my side! I hope to see you around in the future, as I may have something else in store... ;) Love, glitterfox19


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